I'll Stand By You
by Aleka
Summary: Nobody understands anyone or anything. Everyone is blind. *Now Complete!*
1. Foreshadow

The world is full of idiots.  
  
You went to school with a Chris Chambers--everyone has. How blind were you? Did you stay away from him because you thought he was white trash, or just because you were afraid of the unknown?  
  
No one understood. They could never quite comprehend how one of those low-life Chambers kids was capable of feeling. And they sure as hell couldn't figure out how the nice, polite girl next door could love him with an intensity enough to kill them both. 


	2. Tin Cans

The dying sun caressed his face and I couldn't take my eyes away. An innocence surrounded him, and I felt like I was a part of that purity.  
  
"If you do not stop staring at me, there will be hell to pay," Chris Chambers informed me, not looking in my direction.  
  
"I'm bored," I told him irritably. "I want to go home now."  
  
"I'm not done," he sighed patiently.  
  
I jumped off the fence I was perched on. "I beg to differ." A rock hit me on the shoulder and I yelped. "That was mature."  
  
"Well, sit back down then, I'm not walking you home until I'm finished." He wound up and threw another rock. It hit one of the aluminum cans lined up on the fence and knocked it to the ground.  
  
Feeling pity for him before I could stop myself, I didn't say anything for awhile. When three more cans were down, I asked, "When do you think you'll be done?"  
  
He paused and I knew his thoughts were racing and jumbled. I felt like I was intruding on something. Another can fell. "When I stop being pissed."  
  
"Chris. If you'd try talking to me, or just try letting me talk to you, maybe you'd get un-pissed a little quicker." I wished he'd look at me. "Besides, those cans hate you so much. They curse you."  
  
Chris smiled wordlessly. He dropped the rock he was holding and stooped to pick up his hat, which he had flung to the ground in an angry fit.  
  
I didn't know what had happened at his home that evening, but Chris came over to my house earlier looking like he'd had the worst day in his life and he wanted revenge or something. Of course he didn't want revenge; he wasn't like that. But I went with him because he looked like he needed a friend. He led me out to a back field where he had been chucking rocks at empty pop cans for the past hour and a half to relieve some anger.  
  
My face lit up. "I get to go home now?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
"So you're going to talk to me about what happened at home?"  
  
He shook his head. "You know what happened. Same thing that always happens. I probably pissed off my old man by like, sneezing or something." The light was gone from his face now and he got that creepy old man look. "Maybe we could walk around for awhile?"  
  
Hating how useless I was to Chris, I nodded.  
  
"I hate him."  
  
I knew. I just didn't know what to say.  
  
"And I hate how I feel like I don't got a home."  
  
Ironically, the first thing that I wanted to do was correct his grammar. I smiled sadly and said, "Maybe home's not a place with a welcome mat or whatever. You know?"  
  
I don't know if he did now. That was all I said. But by the look in his eyes, I think maybe he did. 


	3. Cousins

The summer of 1963 gave me a best friend. I was new in town that summer and I wasn't there by choice. My brother Vincent and I were shipped off to this little town in Oregon to live with my aunt and uncle after our parents died.  
  
I really pitied my aunt. Four years before, her oldest son was killed in a Jeep accident. She really fell apart then. And now, her sister and her brother-in-law were dead; the victims of a drunk driver who did not understand the purpose of stop signs.  
  
My cousin and I had only five months between us. He was a doleful looking boy with big, sad eyes, but he had a good sense of humour and he treated me like his sister.  
  
Which sometimes made living with him miserable.  
  
I yanked the brush through my wet hair and winced at the tug. I screeched, "Gordeee!!!"  
  
"You have ten seconds, Toby!" he hollered back.  
  
"Oh, hell," I mumbled. My hair was still wet, and now it looked like a large nest of some sort. Gordie was meeting Chris to play baseball, and was being impatient.  
  
"Five seconds and counting, make that three seconds and counting, oh, no, one second and counting, oh, no, time's up. Gordie Lachance is leaving the building. Gordie Lachance has LEFT the building." The door slammed.  
  
Groaning, I hurried out of the bathroom and down the stairs to the door. I found Gordie standing on the landing, looking quite pleased with himself.  
  
I scowled angrily and took my time with putting my shoes on.  
  
"You're funeee," he laughed. He pointed at my hair. "I think you have a cat on your head. Want me to kill it?" 


	4. Butterflies

Chris smiled when he saw Gordie and I enter the ballpark. "Hey, Gordo, what's up?"  
  
Shrugging, he replied, "Ahh, not much. Toby here is being a real pain in the ass though."  
  
"I am not!" I exclaimed. I sighed and looked to Chris for some back up. "I'm not a pain in the ass."  
  
"It depends," Chris laughed good-naturedly. "What are you bitching about now?"  
  
"She wants to play," Gordie answered for me. He squinted at Chris knowingly, the bright hot sun in his eyes. "Girls can't play baseball."  
  
"Toby, you're a girl, you'd, like, fall and break your girly parts," Chris told me. He took off his hat and placed it on my head. "Take care of that for me."  
  
Before I could protest, he and Gordie jogged out to the mound where Mark Russell and Tom Moore were picking teams. I grumbled to myself and sauntered to the dugout where I plopped down defeatedly.  
  
Teddy Duchamp, this wild kid that Gordie said he used to hang out with, came and sat next to me at one point. His team was batting. "So, you're Gordie's cousin?"  
  
I raised an eyebrow and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. "That's correct, congratulations. You're Teddy."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Gordie's an ass. I damn him." I was very angry with my cousin. I was set out to make it known that Gordie was stupid and sexist and I could play baseball as much as I damn well wanted to.  
  
"He's alright, I guess," Teddy said. "Kind of a pussy."  
  
Beginning to tire of this kid's company, I muttered, "He's not a pussy." I shrugged. "He's just mean to me. I want to play baseball. Girls CAN play baseball, you know."  
  
He nodded. "Hey, why don't you play on my team? Tom wouldn't mind. He's a horny old toad, he'd love to watch a girl run."  
  
Allowing myself to laugh, I agreed. "Sounds like a good plan. But you make sure that he doesn't slap me on the ass like he just did to that other guy that just got a home run."  
  
Teddy slapped me on the back like I was an old friend, and he yelled down the bench to Tom, "Hey! Tommy! Gordie's cousin's on our team!"  
  
"Whatever!" he shouted back.  
  
"See, you're one of the guys now," Teddy assured me. "Tori?"  
  
"Toby."  
  
It turned out that I could play somewhat as well as the guys could, and that they did quite enjoy it when I ran (I often got cries of encouragement to steal bases). I was standing in left field when there was this butterfly that kept pissing me off.  
  
"Come back here," I whispered. "I want to catch you. Hey! Come back!" I took my mind off the game, and set out to catch the butterfly, who I would have named Melvin if the world hadn't gone all black.  
  
"Hey, she's waking up," someone said.  
  
I opened my eyes and saw many faces. I had a headache the size of Kentucky and I felt like sleeping for a week.  
  
"You okay?" Chris asked anxiously. "Toby? Are you okay?"  
  
"Gah," I groaned, touching a bump on my forehead. "Who the fuck does Melvin think he is? Hitting me with a baseball…football, something, balls are bad."  
  
"Holy shit, she's out of it," someone muttered.  
  
"Toby, how many fingers am I holding up?" Chris held up a few fingers for me to count.  
  
"She couldn't tell you that anyway," Gordie mumbled.  
  
"How many?" Chris asked again, concern furrowing his brow.  
  
"Uh, orange."  
  
Gordie shook his head. "I am going to be in so much trouble." He offered me his hand and helped me get up. "Mom is going to kill me. I let my cousin get head trauma. Good God Toby, this is why I didn't want you to play."  
  
"Those are real nice shoes," I told him, leaning against his shoulder.  
  
"I'm gonna take her home and hide her from my mom," Gordie told everyone sadly.  
  
Chris jogged to catch up with us. "I can take her, Gordo, you keep playing." He smiled. "She has my hat."  
  
I stared at Chris; my mind still a little disoriented. "My head hurts."  
  
"That's because you got hit in the head," he reminded me. "With a ball. Because you were talking to a butterfly, apparently."  
  
"Were you friends with Teddy Duchamp too?" I asked suddenly.  
  
"You don't like him, do you, Toby?" he asked. "I'll disown you if you do."  
  
"You can't disown me," I corrected him with a laugh. "You'd have to own me in order to disown me." I grinned at his anxious face. "I don't like him. I think he may be a bit of an ass."  
  
"He's a big ass."  
  
"Why don't you like him?"  
  
"I just told you, because he's a big ass."  
  
I sighed and enunciated, "WHAT--DID--HE--DO--TO--BE--COME--AN--ASS?"  
  
"Look at the pretty couple, Eyeball," Ace Merrill crowed, coming out of the pool hall and stopping right in our path.  
  
Eyeball Chambers, Chris' older brother, looked us up and down and smiled in a parody of benevolence. "I've never seen a sweeter sight."  
  
Chris stared at them angrily. "Come on, I just want to take her home, guys."  
  
"This is getting interested, Eyeball," Ace said. "Please go into detail, Christopher. Gonna slip her the--"  
  
"That's enough, Ace," Chris barked. "She got hit playing baseball, I'm taking her home."  
  
I looked between Ace and Chris. The tension was sharp and crisp. I wasn't sure which one was going to snap, but it seemed inevitable that one would. Ace's face was filled with amusement, but I detected some respectful admiration at the same time in his eyes, like Chris had proven himself to him before. But when I looked at Chris' face, the loathing that tremored in his eyes was enough to make me look away.  
  
Eyeball smirked at his little brother's expression, as if this were all a joke to him.  
  
"Cross the street then," Ace challenged.  
  
"No."  
  
Raising my eyebrows, I peered closely at Chris. He looked so full of stubborn pride that I almost smiled, but I got woozy and didn't quite feel up to it.  
  
"Okay." Ace shrugged and went to move around us, but shoved into me, and I sprawled into a parked car.  
  
"Fuck your hand, Ace," Chris spat, helping me stand up straight. "You okay?" he asked me softly.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," I murmured back, staring hard at Ace and Eyeball's backs as they walked away without a care in the world. "What the hell was all that about?"  
  
"Are you sure you're okay, you look sick," he said, looking at me carefully.  
  
"Don't change the subject." I started walking towards my house and he followed. "What were all the scary looks for?"  
  
Shrugging nonchalantly, he kicked an empty tin can down the road. "Ace and his gang and me and my friends had a confrontation a few years ago."  
  
"Yeah? That doesn't surprise me. Ace seems to get into a lot of confrontations, and so do you." I looked at him gently. "Not that you can really help your confrontations…they kinda find you."  
  
"This one involved a knife, a gun and a dead kid." His voice sounded dead and he looked so old.  
  
We reached where I lived, and I invited him in for awhile. Immediately, I went to the fridge and grabbed some frozen tater-tots to put on my goose egg. I sat down at the table with the tater-tots on my forehead and kicked out a chair for him. "Sit. Explain." 


	5. Tater-Tots

Without going into a lot of detail, Chris took me through the events of two days in the summer of 1959. Ray Brower, a kid even I, out in Portland, Oregon, had heard of, had gone missing that summer, most likely hit by a train somewhere out in the woods where he'd gone berry picking. All Chris told me about what happened with the Brower kid was that he, Gordie, Teddy and this dumber than a fence post kid, Vern Tessio, went looking for his body. Ace and his gang met them up there and Ace pulled a knife on them so they could take the body, and get the reward money. Gordie, however, was upset about something and all crazy and stuff, although Chris wouldn't say what about, had a gun. It was actually Chris' father's gun, but Gordie threatened Ace with it if they wouldn't leave without the kid.  
  
Ace did leave, but not before promising to get them back. And he did get them back, ten times over, too. All four of them walked around like war survivors with all their bruises and broken bones.  
  
"Well, he got you back," I said when he was done his story. "Why is he still making your lives miserable?"  
  
Chris shook his head, looking thoroughly unhappy.  
  
"And why do you look like you lost your best friend?"  
  
He traced a crack on the table with his finger, and then looked up at me with ghostly misery etched on his face. "It was a rough weekend."  
  
The amount of pain radiating from his tall, lanky body struck something in me and broke my heart. I knew he had a lot in his life that hurt. Up until that moment though, I hadn't known how strong it was. I also realized, in the glint of his blue eyes, there was something that I wanted so much to know and take care of.  
  
"How's your head?" He was blushing.  
  
He'd noticed me studying him so intensely. I guess I'd been looking at him for longer than I thought I had been. Embarrassed, I nodded. "Cold."  
  
"Numb?"  
  
"Getting there." I smiled self-consciously, and it was absurd, but I only then noticed how very opposite sex Chris was. "Thanks for walking me home."  
  
"Yeah, no problem," he said, seeming to sense my abrupt discomfort. "Should I be going, or…"  
  
"No, you don't have to. I could use the company." Uncle John was God knows where, maybe Home Depot or something, and Aunt Francis was playing bridge with her friends. I didn't even know where to begin guessing about where my brother was.  
  
"Okay." He gestured towards my head again. "Do you want some new frozen food?"  
  
"Yeah," I said, handing him the package of baby potatoes. "My brain warmth is melting the tater-tots."  
  
A grin lighting up his face but leaving his eyes untouched, Chris took it from me, threw it back in the freezer and got some frozen peas.  
  
Then there was a long awkward silence.  
  
"You know, um…" I paused, trying desperately to make the blush that was burning on my cheeks go away. "When you keep someone with a head injury company, you're supposed to talk to her."  
  
"About what?" he asked innocently. "You're a girl. I don't know what to talk about. My interests include sports and girls. Sports would bore you…and by talking about girls with you like I talk about them with Gordie would make you never want to look at me again."  
  
"Then talk about MY interests," I giggled.  
  
"I don't know what your interests are."  
  
"Then ASK," I told him. I was beginning to realize how difficult having intelligent conversations are. I had never had one before, and they were strenuous.  
  
"Oh," he laughed. "Okay, Toby, what are you interested in?"  
  
"I enjoy basketball. And writing…and the amazing sounds that toilets make as they are flushing."  
  
"Yeah, couldn't you just flush toilets all day?"  
  
I bobbed my head up and down. "Oh, yes, such ecstasy."  
  
"So, writing runs in your family then?" he asked, his smile still there, but now more gentle instead of the previous carefree one.  
  
I noticed a hole in my sock and smiled at it. "Gordie's writing is getting pretty morbid, don't you think?"  
  
"He's really good."  
  
"I know." I thought for a moment. "Someone like him would need an outlet like that."  
  
"Someone like him?" Chris repeated. "Someone like what?"  
  
I shrugged, not really knowing what I meant. "I guess…You know Gordie as well as I do, probably better. You can't tell me that he's happy."  
  
"He's not exactly miserable."  
  
"How do you know?" I raised my eyebrows knowingly. "The stuff he writes about…Suicides, murders, broken homes…His writing used to be happy and whatnot. I don't know, I just can't see someone who's happy writing about that sort of stuff."  
  
"So what are you saying?"  
  
"He's got his outlet. It's a healthy outlet." I looked down at my hands. "He's been through some tough shit, that's all. It's not his fault that he's sad."  
  
Chris nodded pensively. A long moment passed, and then he asked, "And what do you write about?"  
  
Laughter bubbled out of me. "Same stuff Gordie writes about."  
  
A cautious grin appeared on his face. "So you went on for five minutes about how miserable Gordie is judging on the stuff that he writes about, when you're the exact same way he is?"  
  
"I never said I was the same way he is."  
  
"But are you?"  
  
My smile died and I averted my eyes from him. "Well I don't know…I mean, maybe, I don't know. I don't know how I feel."  
  
Chris said nothing.  
  
"That's…that's maybe why I'm so fucked up…Maybe. Because, I mean…I can't even tell what I'm feeling. I can't tell what emotion I'm ever feeling. If I'm happy, I couldn't tell you. If I were sad, I'd have no idea. I don't even know what I feel about my parents being gone."  
  
"Maybe…" Chris began, not looking at me. "You should get some help with figuring all that out."  
  
I shrugged.  
  
"You're not going to cry, are you?" he asked suddenly.  
  
Smiling bravely, I shook my head. "I don't cry." It was true; I never did. I hardly had tear ducts.  
  
Looking at him that day in my kitchen, I never would have guessed that Christopher Chambers would be one who could make me cry. 


	6. Five Days Left

Like everything else, the summer began to die out after awhile. The impending doom of starting at a new school was upon me, and I was not thrilled about it.  
  
With my legs dangling over the branch of the tree I was perched in, I looked at Chris solemnly. "Is school okay?"  
  
He shrugged, pulling off a leaf from the tree and studying it absent- mindedly. "Well, you're related to the Lachance family, so you'll be fine. You'll be in the college courses with Gordie and me. No one knows anything about you, so they can't hate you. I think you've got it made, personally."  
  
"Five more days. Hell," I sighed.  
  
"I know."  
  
His silence was different than normal; it was loud and unusual. "You worried?" I asked.  
  
"Not any more worried than I have been all the other few days before school started." He smiled. "So, I guess so, yeah."  
  
"But…why are you worried?"  
  
"People…you know. They treat me like I should act like I owe everyone something just for getting a better education than you'd expect someone from my family to." Shifting around, he muttered, "Tree bark hurts my ass like a bitch…"  
  
Chuckling softly, I shivered at the coolness of the evening. "I think it's stupid how people don't accept you," I told him after a moment. "I mean, it's OBVIOUS that you're not like your family, isn't it? They should be able to just look at you and tell. Did anyone else in your family take college courses?"  
  
"No," he replied. "That's why they think that I shouldn't neither."  
  
"Well, they're assholes."  
  
"Yeah," he barked out a laugh. "Assholes who have a lot of say in who I am."  
  
"That's not fair. And it's not true, either," I told him firmly. "You're nothing like what they say."  
  
"Besides you and Gordie, who else thinks that?"  
  
"I don't know," I said honestly. "I'll try and show them and prove to them that you're not like what they say. Chris Chambers is not some low- life. You have a future ahead of you, and you're my best friend."  
  
"I'm your best friend?"  
  
"I guess so," I said carefully. "I never realized that, but I guess so. You've been basically my only friend since I got here."  
  
Turning to me, his blue eyes sparked something in mine. "Thanks."  
  
Nodding, I cracked my knuckles.  
  
He shuddered. "Don't do that. I hate it when you do that."  
  
"I know, I'll get arthritis or something, I know." I fidgeted. "You're right, tree bark is kinda rough on the ass."  
  
"Yep," he agreed. "Probably have tree sap all over my butt too…with little ants stuck in the sap."  
  
"That's a lovely image, can we get down now?"  
  
He laughed and jumped down. He laughed again when I tripped and fell to my knees when I jumped down after him. 


	7. Never Can Be Too Sure About Those Chambe...

"I think I would like to kick your ass now," Gordie announced, barging into the bathroom where I was getting ready for the first day of school.  
  
"What?" I demanded. As he advanced, I discovered that he had not been joking. "Fuck off!" I squealed. I jumped up onto the toilet.  
  
"You have a crush on my best friend!" he yelled.  
  
My jaw dropped. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"Oh, don't even deny it," he said. "I CAN read."  
  
I gawked disbelievingly at him. "Oh my GOD, you read my diary."  
  
"Why, yes I did, I also know that you lied to my mom about not stealing Vincent's Beatles eight-track. Admit it, you like Chris."  
  
Jumping down from the toilet, I poked him in the chest with my hairbrush. "If you dare tell ANYONE about this, I will personally castrate you using a blunt butter knife."  
  
"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "I won't tell anyone."  
  
"Including Chris."  
  
"Including Chris." He glared at me. "I will never forgive you for this."  
  
I shrugged. "I'm not hurting anything, screw you." Glaring at him significantly, I said, "I now would like to finish getting ready."  
  
"Are you wearing that?"  
  
I looked down at my faded jeans and blue striped short-sleeve shirt. "Yes…why?"  
  
He smiled. "Oh…nothing."  
  
"What's wrong with my clothes?" I demanded.  
  
"Oh, just…you know."  
  
"Gordie!" I whined.  
  
"I'm kidding," he teased, mussing up my hair. "You look good. Hurry the hell up though."  
  
Walking side by side with Gordie, I felt the butterflies in my tummy go nuts. I was nervous beyond belief. I didn't know what these people were going to think of me. Would they like me because I was Gordie's cousin, or hate me because I was Chris' friend?  
  
"Stop cracking your knuckles," Gordie barked. "It's disturbing."  
  
"I'm nervous, I can't help it," I whined. "I don't want to go."  
  
"Neither do I, Toby," he reminded me impatiently. "And as long as you don't do anything stupid, you'll be fine."  
  
"Everything I do is stupid."  
  
Gordie smiled. "That's true."  
  
"Oh crap."  
  
Castle Rock Junior High came into view and it was an awful, looming sight. I wanted to go home right at that moment and curl into my mother's lap and have her read something to me. I just wanted to be little again.  
  
"Fuck," I groaned.  
  
"Toby, you'll be okay," Gordie reassured me, putting his hand on my head and leading me inside.  
  
No one really noticed me, and that gladdened me. So far, everything looked pretty small and uncomplicated. I was pretty sure that I wouldn't have much trouble getting around.  
  
"This is the floor," Gordie informed me helpfully. "Those are the walls. That's a row of lockers. You'll get one of those."  
  
"Thank you, O Great Tour Guide Zen Master."  
  
"Loosen up, you freak," he told me, nudging me playfully.  
  
"Gordie, I'm nervous, all right?" I snapped. "Leave me alone."  
  
"Okay." He began to walk away.  
  
I clutched onto his arm. "DON'T LEAVE ME!" I cried frantically. He just smiled. "Oh, you frighten me sometimes, Gordie. I need some moral support."  
  
"Well, then, let's go seek Chris," Gordie suggested. "He would provide great support."  
  
"I hate you." I shook my head. "Go find a moving vehicle. Play under it."  
  
Later, in the stuffy, cramped gymnasium, we found Chris standing by himself. We all sat on the freshly waxed hardwood floors, listening half- heartedly to the principal's speech about a new start in a new school year, yadda, yadda, yadda, so on and so forth.  
  
"Hey," Chris poked me in the leg. "How scared shitless are you?"  
  
I rolled my eyes significantly. "Quite a lot."  
  
"Do you have your schedule yet?" he asked.  
  
Nodding, I handed him mine, as I examined his. "We have homeroom, math class and English class together. I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Oh, and physical education with you and Gordie."  
  
He whistled appreciatively. "You got Mr. West for Social Studies. Good luck there. He cooks little girls like you for breakfast."  
  
"Chris, dammit," Gordie hissed. "Are you scaring my cousin? She's incredibly impressionable. Don't talk to her."  
  
Discreetly, Chris gave him the finger. "Toby, your cousin is a fudge packer. He likes other male body parts."  
  
"I've known this for many years," I whispered back.  
  
"And you know, this one time--"  
  
"Christopher Chambers, do you have something worth saying?" the principal, Mr. Kilgore, boomed.  
  
Chris paled, but he stood up straighter. The kids around us turned to look at him, many of them smirking and snickering, others just staring with bored looks on their faces. "No, Sir," he called. "Not at the moment."  
  
I smiled and exchanged looks with Gordie. I saw that Gordie didn't look amused, he just looked down at the floor.  
  
"I'd love to see the day when you come up with something that does happen to be worth saying, Chambers." Mr. Kilgore cleared his throat and continued on with his great spiel.  
  
I was given a map of the school, and had no major problems finding my classes. I ate with Chris, Gordie, and their friend Adrian. Mostly, people didn't notice me much because I never said anything unless I was spoken to.  
  
A few days into the next week, I was paired with a girl named Melissa for group work in Social class.  
  
With long, blond hair and sapphire blue eyes, Melissa had about every boy's full attention on her at all time. But she didn't seem to care. I figured she was a snob or something. "Do you want to do the research or the writing?" I asked her after the fifth time she'd snapped her gum.  
  
"Well, I don't know," she replied. "I don't really understand what this whole assignment is about."  
  
"We research a Soviet Union leader and then we write about him."  
  
"You're Gordie Lachance's cousin, right?" she asked suddenly.  
  
"Yeah, do you want me to do the research?"  
  
"He's a cutie." She smiled. "You live with him, right?"  
  
Drumming my pencil against the desktop, I sighed. "Yeah, I live with him. I've lived with him since my parents died."  
  
"I'm really sorry about that," she said sympathetically. "It must be really tough for you."  
  
"My brother's more affected."  
  
"Is he younger?"  
  
"No. He's in Grade 12 at the High School."  
  
"Hey, which guy do you want to do?"  
  
"What?" I shrilled.  
  
"Russia guy. Which of the leaders? There's this list here of the people we can pick."  
  
"I don't care," I said tiredly. "Pick someone with a cool name."  
  
"They're all Russian names."  
  
"Yeah, that's because they're from Russia," I reminded her. "Pick one of them."  
  
"Joseph Stalin."  
  
"He was an asshole, I don't want to write about him."  
  
Her mouth gaped open.  
  
"What?" I demanded.  
  
"You cussed."  
  
I raised my eyebrows and looked around, confused. "Um…it's not really a cuss word…it's a body part."  
  
"My gosh," she said in her obnoxious little Southern Belle drawl, which I don't know where she acquired in Oregon. "My mother washes my brothers' mouths out with soap like you wouldn't believe when she hears them swear."  
  
"Sorry," I said impatiently. "I'll try to keep my language clean from now on. How about Vladimir Lenin?"  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
"A Russian."  
  
"Don't we hate the Russians?"  
  
"Yeah, they hate us too, so we're even."  
  
"Okay. So…Lenin it is then." She smiled contently. "How about we both do the research and we both do the writing? It would get pretty dull the other way. Hey, do you want to eat lunch with me and my friends?"  
  
I groaned inwardly as my shoulders sagged. Little Miss Poodle Puff was wearing down my last nerve at a seriously rapid rate. "I eat lunch with some other people."  
  
"Like who?"  
  
"Gordie and Chris," I replied. "Does it matter?"  
  
"You eat lunch with Chris?" she cried. "Chris Chambers?"  
  
"Yeah, I do," I snapped. "So far he hasn't stolen my lunch money, so I guess he's okay." I rolled my eyes.  
  
"His big brother…you know…he did some real bad stuff to a girl and now he's in jail. And his other brother is in a gang with Ace Merrill, and you know, his daddy beats them all because he's a drunk."  
  
"I know." I nodded slowly. "But you never said anything in that one or two sentences that said anything about what Chris did himself that's so awful."  
  
"He stole milk money a couple years back."  
  
I'd never heard about that, and I told her so.  
  
"Well, what happened was--"  
  
"I don't want to know what happened," I interrupted. "Chris is nice. He's not like his family."  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't get too close to him," she warned me. "You never can be too sure about what one of those Chambers's are gonna do."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind," I muttered. 


	8. Three Years of Hell With You

"You look studious," Chris whispered over my shoulder.  
  
Looking back at him appraisingly, I said, "Yes. That's because I'm working." Our English assignment was to pick a theme depicted in a short story that we had finished reading, and do a literary portfolio on it. We had to write poems about our topic and then analyze the main symbols in the poems.  
  
"What are you writing?" he asked.  
  
"A poem, dumb ass," I told him tersely.  
  
"About what?"  
  
"My theme."  
  
"What's your theme?"  
  
"Christopher," Mrs. Alders scolded harshly. "Are you keeping Toby from her work?"  
  
"No, ma'am," he replied. "I was just asking her a question."  
  
"Was he bothering you, Toby?" Mrs. Alders asked me.  
  
"She's gonna stick up for him," someone whispered to their neighbor.  
  
I shook my head. "He was only asking me a question, ma'am. I don't mind."  
  
"Of course she doesn't," someone else muttered.  
  
Mrs. Alders nodded solemnly and went back to marking papers. I turned back quickly and whispered, "Love."  
  
"Huh?" Chris looked up at him, a distracted expression on his face.  
  
Mrs. Alders stood up. "Christopher Chambers, out of your seat. I won't have you disrupting my class anymore. Let's go, mister."  
  
"Mrs. Alders, he wasn't disrupting anything, I was just telling him what my theme was," I protested hurriedly. "All he said was 'Huh.'"  
  
"Would you like to join Mr. Chambers, young lady?" she demanded.  
  
"No," I snapped. "But I don't think that he should be in any trouble for saying 'huh!'"  
  
Chris got to his feet obediently. "Enough, Toby," he murmured.  
  
Her face flushed and angry, Mrs. Alders put her hands on her hips. "Are you quite through, Miss Tweten?"  
  
"Yes, she is," Chris said, leading himself up the row on the way out the door.  
  
"Bull," I cried. "That's not fair!"  
  
Pandemonium had overcome my class by now. They all looked at Mrs. Alders eagerly, wondering how she would react to my outburst.  
  
"Maybe they do things a little different where you come from, young lady," she said calmly. "But in my classroom, I do not tolerate disrespect from a student. I will not be spoken down to. You and your little friend are to head straight down to the principal's office. Hopefully for your sake, Mr. Kilgore will be more lenient with you than I would have been." My classmates were in awe.  
  
Out in the hallway, Chris took me by the arm and shook me hard. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded.  
  
"It was bullshit, Chambers," I told him. "Why should you have to put up with that crap? You're every bit as human as all those other preps, so why should you be punished for whispering? It's bullshit, and you know it. The way they treat you is wrong, and I'm sorry if you expect me to watch you get kicked out of every single fucking class!"  
  
"Whatever, Toby," he sighed. "That's great that you feel like you need to be my little white knight. But you just fucked yourself over royally. Everyone's going to associate you with me, and I'm not the type that you want to be associated with."  
  
"I'd rather die than be associated with any of those other pussies," I told him indignantly. "I don't get why you can't understand that I'm not ashamed to be your friend."  
  
Chris and I sunk down into the overstuffed chairs outside the principal's office, waiting for the secretary to send us in. "I think you're a retard," he told me. "A seriously fucked up retard."  
  
"Right back at ya," I grumbled. "Don't thank me or anything, you know, whatever."  
  
"Thank you for what?" he shrilled suddenly. "Helping me help you fuck up your social life? You've got another three years of school, genius. With me as your friend, it's going to be three years of hell."  
  
"You just contradicted yourself," I said.  
  
"I did not." He paused. "What do you mean?"  
  
"With you as my friend, I'll get through these three years of hell." 


	9. Insulted

Ironically, I struck up a friendship with Melissa, the girl from my Social Studies class. Once you got past her annoying side, she was actually kind of sweet.  
  
"Tweets," she whispered conspicuously and then slid a slip of paper into my hand.  
  
I found myself not even hating how she called me Tweets. Back at my old school, people had called me Tweety, because of my last name, Tweten, and I would have liked to have seen every single one of those evil beings ravaged by crazy beavers. However, there was always something so sincere with Melissa, so I kinda enjoyed her nickname for me.  
  
I unfolded the paper and read it quickly. I was never sure when Mr. West was watching. When he got upset, hell hath no fury as he wished upon us.  
  
Toby, the note read. Do you know who Jeremy Fehrwell is?  
  
Keeping my eye of Mr. West, I picked up my pen and scrawled down my answer.  
  
Yeah, why? I wrote back, and sailed it over her head when his back was turned.  
  
Do you have any classes with him?  
  
Maybe. WHY???? I made sure to underline the word "why" several times just so she'd get the point.  
  
I think he's cute. Do you think he'd be interested in me?  
  
I sighed loudly enough so that she turned around in her seat to give me a strange, questioning look. I shrugged and then jotted down my reply.  
  
Any guy with eyes would be interested in you.  
  
Her answer was quickly returned to me.  
  
Do you have any classes with him today?  
  
Math and Phys. Ed.  
  
Great…would you pretty, pretty, pretty please ask him if he'd go to the dance next week with me?  
  
I felt like strangling her. Matchmaking was not my thing. I hardly knew this Jeremy guy. One time we played on the same soccer team in gym, but that was about the most contact we'd ever had. My shoulders slumped defeatedly and I wrote back.  
  
If I talk to him, I will.  
  
I had Phys Ed right after lunch, which I think is a pretty damn stupid time to make children run after a ball or whatever, because everyone's feeling full and sluggish.  
  
Luckily, I had Chris to keep me from dying of lethargy. Unluckily, I had Gordie in my class, too. At the moment, we were playing two on one basketball. It was a free day, where you could do whatever you wanted.  
  
"Gordeeeee!" I screeched when he stole the ball from me.  
  
Dribbling the ball, he demanded, "What?"  
  
"I had the ball first. Give it back." I crossed my arms, pissed off. "That was a foul."  
  
"This is basketball," he reminded me helpfully. "You're not on my team. I saw that you had the ball. So then, I took it from you. Now I have the ball, and I'm going to shoot it at the net."  
  
Chris body-checked into Gordie, knocking him down and sending the ball rolling. "See, Toby, THAT was a foul." He picked up the ball and handed it to me politely. "There you go."  
  
I smiled at Chris and began to dribble the ball towards the net. I, of course, missed the basket by about fifty-three yards, and had to retrieve the ball from where a group of kids were playing soccer.  
  
"Thanks," I said to the boy who passed the ball to me. I took a double take and my face lit up. "Hey! You're that guy!"  
  
"I'm a guy, yeah," he said slowly, still watching the soccer ball being kicked back and forth at the other end of the court.  
  
"No, you're Jeremy."  
  
"That's right."  
  
"Okay, there's a dance coming up, and I was just wondering--"  
  
He interrupted, "I'm not going to the dance with you. I don't even know your name, so don't ask."  
  
I gave him a dirty look. "I wasn't ASKING for ME, asshole. I was asking for Melissa Keller, but whatever."  
  
"Melissa Keller? The blond fox?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm not doing business with you anymore," I told him with a touch of arrogance as I turned to walk away.  
  
"She wants to go to the dance with me?"  
  
Flipping him the finger over my shoulder, I lobbed the ball to Chris, and jogged over to him and Gordie.  
  
Chris looked at me closely. "Why were you talking to Fehrwell?"  
  
I stuck out by bottom lip and pouted. "My feelings have been hurt."  
  
"Aww," he sympathized, patting my head. "He's a jackass. What did he say to you? I could go talk to him for you."  
  
Deeply smiling, I loved how he was a natural peacemaker. "It's okay. He should said that he'd never go to the dance with me."  
  
"You want to go to the dance with him?" he shrilled.  
  
Gordie smirked.  
  
"No, I was actually asking for my friend," I assured him. "He just misunderstood what I was saying and thought that I was asking him out."  
  
"You're never going out with a guy like that," Chris told me adamantly. "They're all douche bags."  
  
"Yes, sir." I grinned at him. "Why the sudden interest?"  
  
"I don't know," he said. "I just don't want you to get hurt by someone like that."  
  
Watching Chris' eyes move past me, I turned around to see what he was looking at. Jeremy was standing behind me, looking bashful.  
  
"Hey, um," Jeremy hesitated, obviously experiencing difficulties in recalling my name.  
  
"Her name's Toby," Gordie whispered kindly.  
  
"Yeah," Jeremy agreed. "Listen, Toby, I'm sorry if I, um, insulted you."  
  
"Gordie," I turned to my cousin with an enigmatic face. "Please tell him that I don't care what he has to say because he's a dick face and I hope that he gets hit by a bus."  
  
"She's not very interested in hearing your apology right now," Gordie informed him. "Maybe if you came back later, when she's not angry anymore."  
  
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what I said, because it was probably really harsh and everything, and that I'd really like it if you told Melissa that I'll go to the dance with her." A blush was creeping across Jeremy's face at an alarming rate.  
  
"Gordie," I said. "Please tell him that if he speaks to me again, I will kick him in the nuts so hard none of the males on his side of the family will ever be able to have children unless they get dick transplants, and that I'll tell Melissa after school."  
  
"Jeremy," Gordie translated, "My cousin is violent and she'd be very happy to inform her friend about your decision."  
  
"Thanks, Toby," Jeremy said cheerfully, punching me lightly on the shoulder.  
  
"Gordie! Tell Jeremy that if he touches me again, I'll kick his ass."  
  
"Don't touch her," Chris said with a smile. "Goodbye now, we hope to serve you again soon." 


	10. Hey Jude

Surprisingly decent music was played at the Fall Dance. I couldn't believe I had actually let Melissa talk me into coming to it, but she did. She even got me to wear a dress.  
  
Mainly, I hung around her, except for when slow dances came on. Then I would stand against the wall until she was done frolicking with Jeremy.  
  
Tears on my Pillow ended, and Melissa and Jeremy came over to me, hand in hand. "Hi, Toby," Jeremy said.  
  
"Have I not made it clear--" I began heatedly.  
  
"No, I'm serious, I'm sorry about what I said. If you're friends with Melissa, you gotta be okay." He smiled. "You look good. You should dress like a girl more often."  
  
I grimaced sarcastically. "Thanks. That means a lot."  
  
"You know what I mean." With a childlike shrug, he said, "You're actually kind of alright looking."  
  
Searching the crowds of dancing teenagers, I spotted Gordie and Chris over by the refreshments and sighed. "Not alright looking enough, apparently. I'm nowhere near Melissa."  
  
A wry smile came over Melissa's face. "Who do you have your eye on, Tweets?"  
  
"No one, screw you."  
  
She looked around, trying to follow my gaze. "We're like, best friends!" she cried. "You have to tell me."  
  
"You have to guess." I grinned playfully. "Ask me yes or no questions."  
  
She rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "This isn't fun." Twisting her face up into a confused expression, she asked, "Do I know him very well?"  
  
"Not as well as you think you do." I paused. "Actually, no one knows him as well as they think they do."  
  
"Is he in any of the classes you and I have together?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Erg," she grumbled. "Do I have any classes with him?"  
  
"Um, Health, I think."  
  
"Does his name start with an A?"  
  
"No."  
  
"B?"  
  
"Uh, no." I didn't like where this was going.  
  
"C?"  
  
I scowled. "Yes."  
  
"Does his last name start with an A?"  
  
"No."  
  
"B?"  
  
"No."  
  
"C?"  
  
Squealing, I covered my face with my hands, causing laughter from both Melissa and Jeremy.  
  
Melissa thought for awhile. I prayed that she was having a blond day and she wouldn't figure it out, but then she gasped loudly. "CHRIS CHAMBERS!" she yelled.  
  
I pounced on her, covering her mouth with my hand, and then screaming when she bit it. I let her go, and she just laughed delightedly. "That's so cute!"  
  
"Shut up," I snapped. "Now I'm grumpy."  
  
"No, really," she told me sincerely. "I think it's cute. He's not who I'd recommend for you, but it's cute anyway, I mean, like, your reaction and stuff. You're blushing."  
  
"I'm not blushing."  
  
"Jeremy, look at her blush!"  
  
Jeremy grinned. "Where is the freak, I should go ask him if he likes you."  
  
"NOOOOOOOO!!!" I screamed.  
  
Jeremy and Melissa burst out laughing again. "Why not?" he chuckled.  
  
"Because I would die!" I shook my head wildly. "He doesn't like me like I like him! Besides, Gordie would kill me because Chris is his best friend and I'm his cousin, and he'd be like 'GRR' and all would be hellish!"  
  
"Aww!" Melissa gushed, and wrapped me into a friendly hug. "I think this is adorable."  
  
"Fehrwell," some guy said, bumping into him purposely. "We got smokes, come to the parking lot."  
  
"Jeremy," Melissa warned. "You know I don't like cigarettes."  
  
"I know. But one's not going to kill me," he promised her. "I'll be back." With a hug to Melissa, he followed his buddies outside.  
  
Melissa's favorite song began to play, and she jumped up and down. "I love it! I love it!" she cried. She grabbed my hands and made me dance with her. Her enthusiasm always amused me. I felt like a kid around her.  
  
"She loves you, ya, ya, ya," we both belted out together, and then giggled wildly.  
  
"You squeak like a rat when you sing!" I told her, laughing so hard at her vocal abilities that my sides hurt.  
  
I could tell by her laughter echoing mine that she didn't mind the insult.  
  
"How long have you liked Chris?" she asked me, out of breath. Our dance was vigorous and tiring.  
  
I shrugged. "I don't know. Since before school started."  
  
"AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME, YOU BITCH?" she cried. I giggled; I found it hilarious when she swore.  
  
"I didn't think that anyone else needed to know!"  
  
Tilting her head at me disbelievingly, she squawked, "You know I have a burning desire to know everyone else's business!"  
  
"Hey, Toby," Jeremy called, approaching us. "Chris said he'll dance with you for the next slow dance. He'll meet you at these doors over here."  
  
I ceased all movement. "What the fuuuuck are you talking about?" I asked flatly.  
  
"He'll meet you at these doors," he repeated, this time more loudly, thinking that I had a hearing problem.  
  
I squeaked.  
  
Melissa hugged me. "This is great!"  
  
"No it's not!" I shouted. "My life is over!"  
  
"Chris was like, 'Toby who?' when I asked him," Jeremy informed him.  
  
"I'm going to slit my wrists!" I buried my face in Melissa's shoulder.  
  
"But then he was all happy and smiling and shit," Jeremy said.  
  
"Love Me Tender" began to play. My heart rammed itself against my ribcage. I felt all the colour drain out of my face.  
  
"Go, go, go," Melissa urged me. "Make me proud, Tweets." She gave me a hug and then left with Jeremy to dance.  
  
Chris never showed up at the doors. I felt like crying as all the worst scenarios played themselves in my head. I figured that Chris realized how appalling I was and had left the dance altogether. Then I thought that Jeremy hadn't even said anything at all to Chris and that he and all his friends were now laughing at me standing around waiting for someone who wasn't even going to show up. Tears actually welled up in my eyes and I hated myself for it.  
  
"Toby," a voice said from behind me. The song was over.  
  
I whirled around. It was Gordie. I went to him, wanting him to hug me, but just crossed my arms over my chest instead. "What?" I felt my heart breaking. I felt so stupid.  
  
"Chris said that he couldn't find you," Gordie told me, a look of sympathy in his eyes. I'd never seen him look at me with actual compassion before. "He said he was sorry."  
  
"Well, what the fuck was he thinking?" I demanded. "How many fucking doors are there over here?"  
  
I often react with anger when I'm sad.  
  
Gordie smiled softly. "He's sorry. He'll meet you for the next one, right here." He shrugged. "If he doesn't, I'll personally beat him up."  
  
Abruptly, I was finding myself caring a lot for my cousin right then. "Okay. Thanks, Gordie."  
  
"Yeah, whatever." He grinned and left.  
  
"So, how was it?" Melissa demanded when I found her again. "I want every detail, what did he smell like, did you talk about anything, tell me, I'm having a heart attack!"  
  
I smiled, blinking back tears and thanking God it was too dark for her to see my weakness. "We never found each other."  
  
"That bastard!" she snapped.  
  
"No, it's okay, he just couldn't find me."  
  
"My foot he couldn't find you!" She scowled. "I never did like him!"  
  
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I spun around quickly. Chris stood there, looking sheepish.  
  
"Toby, sorry," he told me, not meeting my eye. "I didn't know where you were. But I'll keep an eye out for you for the next one."  
  
"Okay." What else was I supposed to say? I felt like sinking into the ground and dying, I didn't see how I was expected to come up with some diplomatic response.  
  
"Alright." He nodded. "See you later."  
  
"Okay."  
  
He walked away.  
  
Melissa practically leapt into my arms. "That was the cutest thing I've ever SEEN!" she gushed.  
  
"Oh, shut up," I mumbled crankily.  
  
"You two SO like each other!"  
  
"He doesn't like me," I snapped. "I know he doesn't. I don't see why he would. I think I'm just setting myself up for some fucking hurt feelings."  
  
"Tweets," she said, touching my arm. "Anyone who doesn't like you is a fool, you know that."  
  
"That's not a lot of consolation for right now."  
  
"I know." She smiled pityingly. I hated that she pitied me. I hated how she thought I must be pretty pathetic that I couldn't even get the supposedly least popular person enrolled in the college courses. I hated everyone at that moment, especially myself.  
  
A smooth, tenor voice, sang, "Hey Jude," and I melted instantly. This was the song my mother and I had sung together when we did the dishes together.  
  
I looked back and saw Chris looking back at me. I couldn't help but smile, feeling tears again.  
  
"Hey," he said. "After the dance, wanna help me kick the shit out of Gordie? He's annoying me. He keeps bitch slapping me."  
  
I laughed. "Yes, very much, as much as I adore the idiot, I do enjoy beating him up." I put my arms around his neck, and loved the completion I felt when he put his hands on my waist. Looking up at him, I suddenly realized that was probably close to seven inches taller than I was. He was looking away; off to the side. "I hate this song," I said before I knew I was thinking it.  
  
"Really?" he asked. "I like it. Why do you hate it?"  
  
I rolled my eyes helplessly, not sure what to say. "I don't know, I-- " My voice broke off and I realized how close I was again to crying.  
  
"You okay?" Chris looked at me and by the look on his face, I could tell he wasn't sure what to do if I were to start bawling. "I thought you said you don't cry."  
  
"I'm not crying," I snapped. "I'm allergic to you or something, my eyes are just watering."  
  
"Okay." His voice had quieted down, but I noticed that his arms were holding me more tightly now, but couldn't tell if maybe it was just my imagination or not.  
  
"It reminds me of my mom."  
  
"Oh." He nodded. "I guess it's a pretty sad song to begin with, huh?"  
  
I took one of my hands away from his neck and swiped at my eyes furtively. "Yeah, it's a sad song. How's your night been?"  
  
"I don't know," he said.  
  
"No?"  
  
"No." He smiled. "Could be better I guess. But it's pretty good for the most part. How about yours?"  
  
"Oh," I groaned, rolling my eyes again. "Don't even ask. My friends are assholes."  
  
He laughed. "You enjoy that word, don't you?"  
  
"I do."  
  
As much as the song depressed me, I was happy it was so long. I loved how natural and right that Chris and I were together at that moment. When the song ended, I smiled up at him. "Thank you for the dance, sir."  
  
"No problem," he said. "I'll see you later maybe." He left me with a smirk and then went to find Gordie, I assumed.  
  
Still swooning, I discovered Melissa sipping punch and talking to a friend of hers. "You look like you're on something," her friend filled me in. "Or like you're really sick or something."  
  
Melissa swatted her. "Shut up, she's in love." After the girl had left, Melissa smiled benignly at me, she said, "I watched you guys like the whole time, it was sweet."  
  
"But don't you think that Chris is white trash?" I asked conversationally and mockingly. "You couldn't possibly think that we'd be right for each other. He's so low class, and I'm so much above him."  
  
"I've always been scared of him," she admitted. "But I don't know him, you're right. I guess if you like him this much, then there must be something about him that's worthwhile."  
  
"Really?" I asked. My face lit up delightedly. "You're so wonderful, thank you for saying that."  
  
"Hey, Missy," Jeremy said, approaching us. He gave her a long hug and took a sip from her drink. "Oh, hi Toby." He looked thoughtful for a second, like he was trying to remember something. "Ohhh! I remember. I was just talking to whatshisface, and…do you want to know?"  
  
"What?" I looked at him strangely. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Your little boyfriend," he reminded me patiently. "I was just talking to him."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Umm…you."  
  
"Why?" I cried.  
  
"Do you want to know what he said?"  
  
"Yes!" I didn't like the suspense. I was growing impatient.  
  
"Do you really want to know?" His face was full of pity. I hated that look beyond belief. I wasn't that pathetic, I wished people would stop looking at me like that.  
  
"Just tell me," I snapped belligerently.  
  
He shrugged and refused to meet my eye. "He only likes you as a friend."  
  
Someone bumped into me, and carried on their way, laughing with his friend. Laughter seemed so strange while my private hell was turning inside out. 


	11. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

"Oh, Tweets," Melissa murmured, hugging me comfortingly.  
  
I didn't want her sympathy. I didn't want her charity. I just wanted her to get the hell away from me. The humiliation was enough to kill me. I didn't need the most beautiful girl in the entire school hugging me and thinking, Poor, ugly girl, can't even get trailer trash.  
  
I knew that's what she was thinking. Everyone was. I wanted to get away. First the song, now rejection…I didn't want to be here.  
  
"I'll be right back," I told Melissa, braving a carefree smile for her. Quickly, I rushed out of the gymnasium and out the front doors. "Fuck," I growled. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck."  
  
"Toby?"  
  
Don't let it be Chris, I pleaded to all the saints in heaven. I couldn't face him at that moment.  
  
But it was Gordie. He was alone. I realized that he was having a smoke. He had acquired some lovely habits when he was twelve. "Hey, you okay? You look like…I don't even know what you look like, you just look really sad."  
  
"You haven't heard?" I asked incredulously.  
  
He shrugged and flicked his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. "Heard what?"  
  
"That stupid asshole Jeremy Fehrwell…" I let my hair down from whatever uppy thing Melissa had done with it and raked my hands through it.  
  
"What did he do to you?" He suddenly appeared concerned about me. "Is he saying stuff about you?"  
  
"He told Chris I liked him," I blurted.  
  
"Oh." Gordie winced. "I take it you didn't want him to?"  
  
I shook my head. "Chris doesn't like me."  
  
"Chris adores you, Toby," Gordie assured me firmly.  
  
All at once, all the years of pent up frustration, bitterness and sadness decided to show up. I began to cry weakly as Gordie stood before me, looking helpless and unsure.  
  
"Hey," he said softly, hugging me awkwardly. "You've got a great friend in Chris, Toby."  
  
I held my cousin tightly like he was my life preserver. "Not anymore, Gordie…he's going to hate me now. It's going to be so awkward…Gordie, I want to go home."  
  
"I'll phone Mom and have her come to get you, okay?"  
  
"No." I could tell that I was trembling. I whimpered, "I want my mama, Gordie…I wish she'd come home."  
  
"Oh…" Gordie fell silent, not knowing what he should say to me at the moment. I guess he didn't usually have his cousin have a mental breakdown in his arms. He probably didn't have a whole lot of experience in that area. "Come on, I'll walk with you home."  
  
"I'm not going to ruin your night, Gordie," I told him adamantly, my sobs turning into hiccups. "We're staying."  
  
"But I don't think you should be here when you're like this," he said quietly, like he was afraid that I would get mad. "I think maybe you should just get home and go to bed."  
  
"No, really, I'm fine," I assured him, my voice frail. "I'm sorry for crying all over you, I think I got your shirt wet."  
  
"I forgive you." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a tissue. "I have a Kleenex…but it's used."  
  
I sobbed out a laugh. "Thanks, but I'll live."  
  
His arm over my shoulder defensively, he led me back into the gymnasium, and parked me in front of Melissa.  
  
"You're sure you're okay, Toby?" he asked carefully. "You know that I'll bring you home. It's not like I'd be missing much anyway."  
  
"Nah, I'm good," I said, wiping away a stray tear. "Thanks."  
  
"Okay." He slapped me on the shoulder for good measure before he walked away.  
  
Melissa gave me a concerned look. "Tweets, are you okay? Can I do anything?"  
  
I grinned sadly. "No, I'll be fine."  
  
"I've never pictured you as the crying type."  
  
"Yeah," I laughed. "I went out there, depressed about Chris and wound up bawling about my parents. I never cried at their funeral, so I guess it was just a delayed reaction."  
  
"Aww," she gushed. "You need a hug."  
  
"No, really, I'm fine!" I backed away from her, fearing her deathly bear hug.  
  
"I don't think so!" she crowed. "I think you need some affection!"  
  
"Back off, Barky," I spat, giggling.  
  
An hour later, I was quickly getting tired. Another thirty minutes remained until the dance would be over. Melissa said we had to stay until the end.  
  
"Aww, it's my favorite Toby in the world!" Gordie exclaimed, putting his arms around my neck from behind. "Imagine meeting you here! It's a small, small world."  
  
I hacked and whirled around. "What do you want?"  
  
"I have to tell you a secret," he told me. "Come into the hall way with me, and I shall enlighten you."  
  
Under the blinding glare of the overhead lights, Gordie and I leaned against the wall together. I waited for him to start talking, and when he didn't, I became impatient. "What's your secret?"  
  
"Would you be really upset if I told you that I forgot?"  
  
Shrugging, I shook my head. "I might kill you. But whatever."  
  
"Wanna guess?"  
  
"Not really," I said. "I want you to tell me. You know I have violent tendencies."  
  
"I feel threatened," he whimpered. "My fight or flight defense mechanism is kicking in, and my gut feeling is telling me to take flight, so I'm going to leave now."  
  
I grabbed his hair and he squealed frighteningly high. "Let go let go let go let go! I feel rippingness! My hair! Let go, you whore!"  
  
"Tell me or you go bald."  
  
"You have no conscience, do you?"  
  
"I've never seen a conscience before, what does it look like? Maybe I have one and I just don't know about it."  
  
"Chris likes you as more than a friend, he just didn't want to tell Jeremy because he thought that Jeremy was just being a retard and that you didn't like him as any more than a friend and if he told Jeremy that he liked you as more than a friend and you found out you'd laugh at him!"  
  
"Are you for serious?" I shouted, letting of his hair and hugging him with all my strength. "Gordie Lachance, I love you to death!"  
  
"Go tell that to Chris," Gordie teased.  
  
"What exactly did you say to him?" I demanded, feeling high and quite pleased.  
  
"I went up to him, and I said 'Hey, how's it going' and he said, 'it's going, what about you' and then I said 'alright, the music sucks, huh' and he said 'yeah, I've only heard one good one so far' and I said 'that's 'cause you're a pussy and you like pussy music' and then he said--"  
  
"Get to the part where you talk about me!" I ordered sharply.  
  
"I love torturing you though," he whined.  
  
"Speak." I glared at him. "I'm not opposed to kicking you in the coconuts. It'll be your own fault for causing me stress."  
  
"I went up to Chris. He asked me where I had gone. I said I went out for a smoke and I'd seen you out there, and you were kinda upset. He asked why, did Jeremy come up to you too? And I said, no, she's upset about her parents and the fact that doesn't think that you two are friends anymore. And then he said, why does SHE think that? And I said because you don't like her and she likes you. And then his eyes got all wide." He smiled. "I need a drink of water. This is a long story."  
  
"Oh, Gordie, you know how I like hurting you when you make me mad…"  
  
"Okay, anyway," he interrupted. "Then he said what I told you before, about what he'd told Jeremy and why he told that to Jeremy. He was worried that you'd think he was stupid for liking you. But he really does like you, Toby."  
  
"If I believed in incest, I would kiss you!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Thank God that you don't." He took me by the arm and led me into the gym. "You're going to talk to him now."  
  
"Nooooooonononononononono, now I'm all blushing and giggly and stuff!" I tried to dig my heels into the ground, but linoleum is slippery.  
  
"Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" started being played.  
  
"Hey, perfect, huh?" Gordie looked back at me and grinned feverishly. "I never thought I'd get such a rush from being a matchmaker."  
  
Chris was standing alone, against a wall, looking down at the ground. For such an impenetrable tough guy, Chris looked awfully vulnerable and small standing by himself.  
  
"Hey, wallflower," Gordie called. "I brought you a present." He planted me in front of Chris and beamed. "Have fun, I'll check up on you later." He ran off.  
  
"Um, hey," Chris said, and for the first time since I'd met him, I saw him blush. "Do you want to dance?"  
  
I nodded. "I would. Sorry if I step on you, I'm getting kinda tired."  
  
"So am I." He put his arms around my waist again and this time it felt even more right. "Gordie said you were crying before. Are you okay?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I was just thinking about a lot of stuff all at once and it kind of upset me. You know…spin, spin, spin."  
  
Laughing, Chris said, "I know very well." He paused. "You weren't crying about me, were you?"  
  
"It depends, would it make you feel bad?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then noooo…"  
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just…I don't trust guys like that Jeremy prick. They've always kinda…had it in for me, or something, you know what I mean? I thought that he was just trying to embarrass me or something, so I lied about how I felt."  
  
"I don't care," I told him. "Really. I don't trust him either."  
  
"I'm still sorry."  
  
"Stop saying that," I giggled.  
  
"I made you cry," he protested. "You never cry, remember?"  
  
"Yeah, well…" I searched for the right words to say. "I guess that means you really mean something to me if you can do that to me, Chris. I don't think you quite know the affect you have over me."  
  
I could have died and been okay with it when Chris laid his head on mine. I felt utterly peaceful, like I was in the arms of an angel and nothing could hurt me as long as he was holding me. 


	12. Tomorrow

"You took all the hash browns!" Vincent roared at me vehemently the next morning at the breakfast table.  
  
I smirked sarcastically. "That's because I'm not the one who needs to watch their weight, Fatty." I looked at Gordie. "Is there any ketchup?"  
  
"For what?" he asked, studying my plate. "I see no need for ketchup."  
  
"Hash browns." I gestured at my hash browns. "Hash browns require ketchup."  
  
Gordie shook his head, dumbfounded. "In the fridge."  
  
"Vincent, would you grab it for me?" I asked my brother sweetly.  
  
"Chew me."  
  
"You're closer."  
  
Taking a bite of his toast that was drenched in margarine, he shrugged. "You took all the hash browns."  
  
I bit my lip and stared at him challengingly. "You are two feet away from the fridge."  
  
He repeated, more slowly this time, "YOU. TOOK. ALL. THE. HASH. BROWNS."  
  
"I KNOW!" I yelled. "I like the hash browns! You already had some! Would you get off your ass and get me the damn ketchup for God's sake?"  
  
"Is someone overtired?" Gordie cooed teasingly.  
  
"She just has PMS," Vincent grumbled.  
  
"I think she was up all night thinking about a certain someone who shall remain nameless." Gordie beamed.  
  
"No I wasn't," I growled.  
  
"Then why are you so grumpy?" Gordie asked. "I think it may have something to do with the lack of sleep."  
  
"Screw you."  
  
Aunt Francis walked into the kitchen, for once not dressed in her lounging around the house clothes. She tsked at me and said, "Toby, language, please. I don't want to hear any one of you kids using that kind of language." She slowly put her arms through the sleeves of her jacket and announced, "I'm going to the market. John's down at the golf course lounge, just so you know. Gordie, could you get the dishes after you're all finished breakfast?" She gave us her usual unhappy smile and left the house.  
  
"Toby got in trouble," Vincent giggled.  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
He gasped. "Obscenities!"  
  
"That's a pretty big fucking word for you, isn't it, Vinny?" I teased.  
  
"Don't call me that."  
  
"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't know that fudge packers had feelings."  
  
"Toby, think of your boyfriend, it'll make you happy and make you leave your poor brother alone to be stupid," Gordie suggested.  
  
"You have a fucking WHAT?" Vincent cried.  
  
"I don't have a fucking anything!" I shot back, glaring lethally at Gordie.  
  
"You better not have a boyfriend or I'll kick the crap out of him," he warned.  
  
"You probably couldn't kick the crap out of him, he's bigger than you," Gordie informed him helpfully.  
  
"Who is it?" Vincent demanded.  
  
"I don't have a boyfriend!" I cried.  
  
Gordie smiled. "Oh, I don't know if I should TELL you, Toby would get so angry with me. And we both know how STRONG she is." The two of them exchanged looks and then they both laughed at the thought of me being strong. "Never mind. Chris Chambers."  
  
Vincent's jaw unhinged. "HE likes YOU?"  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I stared at him, unimpressed. "I highly resent that."  
  
"I mean…he's so much cooler than you."  
  
"Thaaanks," I said sarcastically. "You know, I just love the wonderful things you do to my self-esteem."  
  
Vincent patted me on the head. "No problem, kid."  
  
"You can have my hash browns," I told him, scraping them onto his plate. "They're gross without ketchup." I sneered at him. "I hope you get fat."  
  
"Toby, God," Vincent said, looking confused and kind of annoyed. "What the hell crawled up your ass and got stuck half way up?"  
  
Gordie smiled at the image that probably sprung into his mind.  
  
"Nothing," I told him. I got up. "I'm just full."  
  
"How do you expect to keep a boyfriend if you're going to be bitchy without a good excuse?"  
  
"Would you piss off about Chris?" I barked.  
  
Vincent rolled his eyes. "What good's a brother for if he can't make fun of his sister about her first boyfriend?"  
  
"You're not good for anything."  
  
"Nice comeback," he congratulated me.  
  
"I'm sorry! I'm sure if you hadn't pissed me off, I would have been more witty!"  
  
Gordie looked at me. "Toby, it's not that big a deal, we didn't mean anything by it. Just sit down and eat, okay?"  
  
"I'm grumpy!" I exclaimed.  
  
"Yes, we know," Gordie assured me. "We won't bug you anymore. Just eat."  
  
I scowled, but reluctantly sat down again. "I want my hash browns back, please," I grumbled.  
  
The mid-afternoon sun at our backs, Gordie and I trudged along Main Street, the heat making our faces flushed.  
  
"I didn't think you'd mind Vincent knowing about Chris," he said when our conversation about whether or not Elvis sucked or not began to get old.  
  
"It's okay." I shrugged. "I don't like being teased, that's all."  
  
"He always teases you though."  
  
"I don't want to be teased about Chris," I corrected myself. "It makes me feel bad for Chris. I don't know why, but it does. It's just that me and him together isn't supposed to be a joke, you know?"  
  
He nodded, comprehending. "Yeah, I guess so."  
  
"Yep."  
  
A slow smile coming across his face, he kind of laughed. "I hope you know that we're going to go see him."  
  
"Holy Mother Mary, what do I do?" I squawked.  
  
"Say hi."  
  
"Do I hug him?"  
  
"I don't know, do you?"  
  
"I don't know!"  
  
Gordie laughed and elbowed me playfully. "He's gonna be just as shy as you."  
  
"Chris isn't SHY!"  
  
"Around you he is," he said.  
  
"Aww," I gushed, feeling happy butterflies in my tummy. "Wait…no…not aww! It's going to be awkward!" I cracked my knuckles.  
  
"That's not going to get you anywhere with him," he informed me. "It's the most unattractive trait any girl could possibly possess."  
  
"What is?"  
  
Gordie and I spun around, surprised at the invading voice. "Hey, Chris," Gordie greeted him calmly.  
  
I didn't know how on earth he was able to sound so calm about seeing Chris when I felt panicky enough to faint.  
  
"Hey, Gordie." He looked at me briefly, and smiled before he looked everywhere but at me. "Hi, Toby."  
  
"Hey," I said, worried that I was sounding a little over eager. "How are you?" Now I was concerned that I sounded like a robot.  
  
"Good," he replied, which was always his answer despite the cornered animal look in his eyes. "What about you?"  
  
"Grumpy. And little on the warmish side."  
  
"I know," he said, and when I looked at him, I realized that he seemed exhausted as well. "It's a hot one today. Do you guys want to take a walk down by the river?"  
  
"Anything to get away from here," Gordie said immediately.  
  
"It's so far away," I groaned.  
  
"Overruled," Chris told me, smiling impishly. "Come on, it's not that far a walk."  
  
"Yeah, besides, your feet are so big, it spreads your weight over a larger surface area, therefore decreasing the effort you have to make in order to move your legs," Gordie reminded me.  
  
I laughed. "That's bullshit."  
  
"Yes it is. Walk, woman. I want to see the ducks. "  
  
Eventually, we reached Castle River, just a little beyond the mill and The Mellow Tiger bar. All three of us were worn out and tired, but when we got to the river, the trees bathed us in refreshingly heavenly shade.  
  
"Oh, this is nice," I breathed, piling my heavy hair on top of my head and enjoying the crisp coolness of the shade.  
  
"I feel like death," Chris moaned. "I have bad ideas sometimes."  
  
Grinning, I peered over at him and smiled. "No, it's nice down here."  
  
"Goose, goose, squirrel." Gordie kept an eye out for ducks. "Goose, goose, flowers, goose, ooh, a bunny. Never mind! Not a duck! Goose. What's with all the fuckin' geese?"  
  
"You'll find some ducks eventually," I assured him. "Be patient."  
  
"I just love ducks though," Gordie said. "I like the way they swim. They're not stupid looking like geese. They're just happy looking. Like Donald."  
  
"Donald isn't happy looking, he's a grumpy duck," I said. "He hates everyone and everything."  
  
"Is that a duck?" he murmured, ignoring me. "Dammit. Weeds. Where's the duckies?"  
  
"Oh, shit on your duckies!" Chris said. "Some big nasty ass pelican probably came and ate them all."  
  
I beamed. Chris' annoyance amused me. "Someone's grumpy."  
  
"Just like you," he reminded me.  
  
"Excellent."  
  
We walked side by side, with Gordie walking close to the riverbank, still on the lookout for his feathered friends.  
  
"You're going to fall in," I warned in a singsong voice.  
  
As usual, he didn't pay any attention to me. He moved closer to the water, and slipped on a loose rock. His arms windmilled and he grabbed my arm, yanking me into the water with him.  
  
The shock of the cold on my overheated body took my breath away. Then I realized that I was angry. "If there's leeches I here, I'm going to kill you, Gordie."  
  
"If there's leeches in here, I'll probably faint," he said. I heard Chris' nervous giggle from his spot on the dry land. "Oh my God, there's ducks!" He waded out further to chase the birdie. It swam away and Gordie looked sad. He turned and swam back to the bank, splashing me in doing so. "Kick, glide, kick, glide, stroke, stroke, kick, glide," he said, swimming past me. He realized that the water was up to his knee and so he stood up. "Toby hates me?"  
  
I sat in the water, my teeth chattering and my hair sticking up in all directions. I don't imagine I looked very friendly. I nodded. As I began to crawl back to the embankment, Gordie clotheslined me. I screamed and got dragged under the water.  
  
"Gordie!" Chris yelled, somewhat laughing.  
  
I came up, sputtering. "Oh, you fruiken schnit…"  
  
Chris put out a hand. "Come on."  
  
Relieved, I swam to him and allowed him to pull me out of the water. I shivered. "Thank you. Death to Gordie."  
  
Gordie also climbed out of the river, sopping wet and looking distraught and pissed at Chris. "You stole my playmate."  
  
"She's not your playmate," Chris laughed, staring at him oddly with a small, questioning smirk. "You're cousins. That's wrong."  
  
"Whatever." Gordie looked pissed. "You wanna go, punk?" He fought back a smile more successfully than Chris did. Gordie shoved Chris back and pounced on him. "Mercy?"  
  
"I haven't kicked your ass yet."  
  
"Chris, kick him in the nuts," I called.  
  
Gordie, knowing that Chris would most likely do anything that I told him to, yelled, "Mercy, mercy, mercy!"  
  
Chris let him up, and Gordie went straight to me saying, "If you weren't related, I don't think I'd like you very much."  
  
"Good to know." I smiled challengingly. "I'm pissed at you too, you know. I've been practicing my Kung Fu."  
  
"Your kung fooey?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And you're going to injure me?" Gordie laughed. "With all your five foot glory?"  
  
"This is what I call the Evil Death Monkey--" Before I had the chance to make up some Kung Fu moves, Gordie clobbered me and I fell to the ground.  
  
"Your monkey sucks!"  
  
"Now you will die!" I bit his finger, causing him to scream.  
  
"Mercy!" I let him up and he yelled, "You fucking cheater!"  
  
"You taste like batteries!" I said, wiping my mouth in disgust.  
  
"You know what batteries taste like, how?"  
  
Chris decided that now was a good time to wrestle with me since we had both effortlessly beaten Gordie.  
  
"Yeah, Chris, that's all and elaborate plot so that you can touch Toby's--ow, fuck! Fuck! Where the fuck did you learn how to pinch like that, Toby?"  
  
"You're crude," I snapped.  
  
"One, two, three, go!" Chris yelled and jumped on me.  
  
I screamed and fell down. I began to giggle. "That's--where--I'm--my special spots!"  
  
Gordie squealed. "Don't touch her there when I'm here! Don't touch her there anytime!"  
  
"Ticklish! Ticklish Toby!" I cried, laughing so hard tears began to stream down my face.  
  
Chris laughed when I started to whine. "Mercy?"  
  
"Uh huh," I whimpered. "I don't know how you knew that I have ticklish sides, but I'm very tickled out now."  
  
Still chuckling, he rose to his feet and helped me up. "You're cute when you get tickled," he laughed.  
  
I smiled despite my blush. Gordie gagged.  
  
Gordie became tired after awhile and we walked him home. The first stars were just beginning to sparkle as Chris and I rested on a merry-go- round in a nearby playground.  
  
"I love the stars," I said out of the blue.  
  
Chris grinned. "Are you a space nut? Do you plan on finding a lost planet or something? Or do you want to be an astronaut?"  
  
"No," I said slowly, smiling back at him. "I don't want to be an astronaut. It's just that, this one time…Bah, my childhood memories are boring."  
  
"No, no, no, YOU'RE boring," he corrected me. "But I still enjoy your stories. Tell."  
  
"You're so loving," I grumbled sarcastically, shaking my head. "Um, when I was like, I don't know, maybe six or seven, Vincent scared the bejesus out of me, and so I couldn't sleep, so I went into my parents room-- "  
  
"My God, they weren't doing it were they?"  
  
I yelped. "Chris! That's disgusting! Thank you for that image!" I shuddered and didn't speak for awhile. I shook my head and said, "They were SLEEPING. I woke my dad up, and I told him I was scared. He was all grumbly and stuff because he slept like a bear and didn't like it when his hibernation was interrupted. He told me that the stars were windows in heaven, and that that's where angels watched us from. I said something about how I didn't want to be watched, I wanted someone to protect me because there was this monster in my underwear drawer…That's where Vincent said that he had put it. Then my dad said, whenever you smell roses, an angel is close by." I shrugged with self-conscience. "I don't know. Stars just remind me of him."  
  
After a long moment of no words, Chris asked, "Did you smell roses?"  
  
I smiled wistfully. "I imagined that I did."  
  
A silence fell over us uncomfortably. Chris' foot moved gently along the sand, turning the merry-go-round slowly. I stared up at the peaceful sky. But still, it was empty without conversation.  
  
"We need Gordie, huh?" Chris laughed softly. "Things get kinda quiet without him."  
  
"Yeah," I agreed. I glanced at him briefly, and saw that there was dried blood behind his ear. I blurted, "Did your dad--" I stopped myself, but knew he knew that I had noticed.  
  
Chris nodded. "My little brother and sister were fighting and my dad figured that it was my fault that he couldn't sleep because of all the noise. I don't know what he threw at me. It's not a big deal though. It doesn't even hurt."  
  
Touching the side of his head gingerly with two fingers, I saw him wince. "It does hurt."  
  
"But it'll go away."  
  
"Chris," I murmured. "What your dad does to you…hit you, I mean…it's never going to go away. It'll shape your relationships, control how much trust you put in other people…The scars aren't going to go away."  
  
Nodding vaguely, he stopped moving his foot, so the merry-go-round slowed to a halt. "I just don't want to wind up like him."  
  
"You're not him." I looked him in the eye. "You'll never be him. You're so much above him, Chris."  
  
"I wonder about that sometimes."  
  
"You don't have to," I assured him firmly. "You could never hurt anyone."  
  
He shrugged. "I don't think I could."  
  
"Sometimes, I think about how you turned out in spite of the shit you grew up with being thrown at you every day and it makes me feel like I've found something really worth getting to know."  
  
His smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, he turned to face me fully. "You know what? When I hear you talk, it's like…I want to know everything about you, but I know that I could never begin to understand you."  
  
I laughed nervously but contagiously. "I think maybe we should start getting to know each other a little better sometime soon."  
  
"As long as you promise not to be too horrified by what you find out about me."  
  
"If you could see yourself through my eyes you'd be overwhelmed."  
  
Catching his attention, he peered at me, his eyes alive. "Now how do I overwhelm you?" he asked, chuckling.  
  
"You can take my breath away." I met his gaze, my face hopefully dead serious. "I panic when I think about you."  
  
"You panic?" He grinned cautiously. "That's an odd choice of words."  
  
"I never know what to do," I explained. "It's like, I think about you, and it's beyond butterflies in my stomach. It's just panic. Haven't you ever felt that way about something?"  
  
"I don't know," he said. "But I know what you mean."  
  
Giggling again, I said, "That's a first. Usually no one knows what I mean."  
  
"I do." He looked up at the endless sky for a moment. "Which is strange, since you confuse me so much."  
  
"I CONFUSE you?" I demanded, laughing.  
  
"Well, no." He didn't say anything for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Girls in general confuse me, but YOU fucking BAFFLE me."  
  
"Thank you, I'm sure, What did I do that's so strange?"  
  
Chris faced me fully and I had the feeling that he was able to stare through me. Softly, his hand touched my face and I experienced heaven.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
He murmured, "Panicking." His lips tasted mine. He adored me so gently that I could have stayed in his arms forever. After a moment, he pulled away; smiling and letting me rest my head on his shoulder.  
  
The stars shimmered enigmatically, watching us fall in love and away from reality. 


	13. You're Over

At school on Monday, a girl named Renee smirked at me slyly in English class as I sat down in my desk. I turned to look at her crossly. "What?" I demanded. "Nothing," she said, catty and dismissive. "Don't be a bitch," I told her pleasantly. She smiled and shrugged. "The bell is going to ring soon, you should turn around in your seat and face the front so we can start class." Chris tapped me on the shoulder. I looked back at him. "You could take her," he whispered teasingly. I smiled at him briefly. "I'll try to restrain myself." Like an obtrusion, the bell sounded. "If that's what you wish to do." He laughed. "Mr. Chambers, I don't know when it was that you developed a hearing problem, but that was the bell. If you look around the room, you will notice that your classmates are quiet and waiting for you so that we can begin today's lesson." Mrs. Alders stared at him challengingly. "Well," he said, in an easy-going tone. "I'm ready. Let's begin." "Don't get smart with me, Christopher," she warned him. "Oh, I don't get smart," he assured her. "Not according to the way you grade my papers." "One more peep from you and you're out of here, Mr. Chambers." I looked back at him, angrily, to tell him to shut up. He gave me his usual emotionless smile and nodded, sitting back in his seat. "Alright, Grade Nines," Mrs. Alders announced, making her way over to the chalkboard. She picked up a piece of chalk and began to write down the assigned reading pages in her perfect handwriting.  
  
At lunch, I made a pit stop and pushed open the door of the girls' bathroom. Renee and her posse were already in there, primping or whatever it was they did when they stared at themselves adoringly in the mirror. I ignored them and went into the farthest stall. "God, I smell fish," Renee declared. "Does anyone else?" One of her minions agreed. "Definitely. Tuna fish. Week old tuna fish." When I emerged from the stall, Renee broke out into a big smile. "So THAT'S where the fish smell was coming from!" She nudged me and said in a confidential stage whisper, "Hey, Toby, sweetie, try to keep your pants UP for further references. The smell is unattractive, I'm afraid." I glared at her, but proceeded to wash my hands. "Does Chris have to hold his breath when he's eating you out?" I spun around. "Bitch." "Well?" She stared at me, enjoying this confrontation and my obvious anger. "Why don't you go home and blow your daddy?" I whipped off the tap and flicked my hands in the sink to dry them. "I hear he just can't get enough of it." Renee appeared to be appalled. "Who do you think you are? Do you think you're better than everyone else?" I smiled. "I'm a lot better than you think you are." She pushed me against the stalls. I smacked my head against the metal and winced. "Listen, Princess. You are so over at this school. By fourth period today, you are not going to have a single friend." She smiled. "Unless you count your little trailer trash rat." "I hope you like my foot up your ass---" Mockingly, she held up her hands in a parody of surrendering. "Woah, Nellie. Settle. I'm not saying that Chris Chambers is a bad person or anything. I have nothing against thieves." "Fuck you sincerely." "Thank you very much, I'm sure." She was still pinning me against the stall. She leaned in a little closer. "I'm only telling you this because I don't want you to get hurt or anything." "Oh, of course." "Don't you know what his big brother did?" she whispered, as if it were some sinful secret. "How do you know that Chris isn't going to fuck you with a knife to your throat?" "Get the fuck away from me!" I yelled. Everything was closing in on me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even see straight. A horrible, dangerous anger was suffocating me and it hurt. "Shh," she cooed. "No need to get in a huff. It's not like everyone doesn't know already anyway." "Know what?" "You're a slut, Tweten." "I'm not a slut." "No, of course not, and I'm not popular either." "You should look popular up in the dictionary sometime." I informed her, "Popular means that you're well liked. The only reason you have big flocks of guys following you around is because they know you're an easy fuck, NOT because you're Miss Congeniality." While Renee punched like a girl, it still made its affect. My head snapped back against the stall again and I yelped. "You're a fucking moron, Tweten." I shoved her away from me and left the bathroom briskly but with some kind of faltering composure.  
  
Gordie looked up at me with a huge grin when I approached the table he and Chris were eating at. "Hey, looks like someone named Toby walked into a door." I touched my lip and looked at my fingers. I was bleeding of course. I plopped down next to Chris, defeated. He peered over at me. "Hey," he said. He pressed a napkin to my lip. "What happened?" "Goddamn mother fucking whore," I spat. "Who, me?" he shrilled. I shook my head. "Whatshername." "Someone did this to you?" he asked. When I nodded, his eyebrows furrowed. "Who the hell was it? Why? What happened?" "I told Renee McKenna that she was an easy fuck." "And the award for the world's most retarded fifteen year old girl goes to." Gordie gestured to me and then he clapped proudly. Chris slipped his arms around me and I buried myself in his comforting warmth. "I'm so sorry, Toby." "You're not the one that punched me." "No, but I AM the reason that Renee bullied you." He kissed my forehead. "I heard her call you a slut in Health class. I'm sorry. I knew I should have stayed away from you." "Hey," I murmured. "I'm not going to just give you up over some bitchy girls who don't have anything better to do than to spread rumours. I'm not giving anyone that kind of satisfaction. And even if you tried to stay away from me, I'd still find you. I'm very good at hide and seek, you know." Renee past by our table, casually knocking my carton of milk over. I groaned in frustration. Chris looked up at her tiredly. "I'd appreciate it if you left her alone, Renee." Her eyes widening, Renee stared at him, shocked at the fact that he had the audacity to speak to her. "Pardon me, Chambers?" He looked so old and haunted as he averted his eyes to his hands. I wanted to reach out and touch his arm, but knew the reaction it would cause Renee to make. He muttered, "She didn't do anything to you. Just leave her alone, okay?" Smiling, poisonously pleasant, she patted my head. "You had to go cry to your boyfriend, Tweten? Awfully immature, don't you think?" "My condolences." I spread some napkins over the spilled milk and ignored her, hoping she'd go away. "Hey, Renee, why don't you sit down?" Gordie asked conversationally. "You apparently don't seem to have a problem being seen with Chris Chambers and his little slut." "I'm--I'm not being seen with them--" Renee looked around, and sure enough, there were a few of her "popular" friends staring haughtily in our direction. "Better leave quick or it'll be in the newspaper," I advised her. Never had a more satisfying sight crossed my eyes than the sight of Renee McKenna's perky little ponytail swishing angrily in the air. 


	14. He'll Change Your Mind

"Don't you think you're a little too old for all these stuffed animals?" After school, Chris was helping me clean up my room before Melissa came over. I didn't care how neat or tidy it was when Chris was over, but Melissa was different. She had country club go-er written all over her and her posh clothes and I couldn't help feeling like I should try to impress her or something. So far, all Chris had done was snoop around and criticize my belongings. I stared up at him defiantly and then snatched the teddy bear that he was holding away from him. I tossed it back on my bed. "We're not all sixty-five-year-olds in sixteen-year-old disguises, Christopher Chambers. Some of us are youthful. Some of us even like fun." "I like fun," he protested. Giving him a look, I scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded with a smile. "Oh, nothing." "Are you saying I'm boring?" "I did not say you were boring," I assured him calmly. A grin broke out on my face. "Just a little uninteresting." With one of his carefree laughs that always managed to make me melt, he tackled me and the both of us fell to the floor. I screamed, and then when I knocked my head against my bedpost, I started to laugh while I howled. "Child abuse," I gasped, struggling to get up. "Get off of me!" Still laughing, he moved and then sat on me. "Are you having fun?" I couldn't lie to him. I always had fun with Chris. There was always something so playful in his eyes when he looked at me that made me feel childish. I grinned and bobbed my head up and down. "I'm having great fun." "Barrel full of monkey fun?" he asked, his voice innocent. "You're heavy," I choked. He leaned down, and I stretched up. "Oh, I'm sorry, am I flattening you?" He kissed me softly. "Yeah, I think you flattened a kidney." "That's okay, you have two of them." He smiled and the high afternoon light streaming in through the open window lit up his entire face. He let his lips brush mine again. "Should I let you up?" I shook my head, running my hands up and down his strong, golden- tanned arms. "Don't feel like cleaning anymore?" "And you do?" "Nah," he replied. "I feel like feeling you." "Ooh, sappy," I crowed, laughing. "I approve." His hands were in my hair as he kissed me with his beautiful aged innocence. I could feel myself slipping away and falling into the moment when the door swung open. "Oh, good Lord," Melissa cried, her voice dripping with that familiar Southern accent. "Get a room." "This IS my room," I reminded her. "And that's the door. You're supposed to knock on it." She shrugged carelessly. "Your aunt told me to go right in so I did. I didn't expect someone to be on top of you." "You don't know her at all!" Chris cried, mockingly aghast. He sat back and watched as I stood up. "I think I need therapy," she muttered. "Oh, bull," I laughed. "I'm exposed to you and Jeremy cleaning out each other's lungs with your tongues every day." "Good job, honey, you made a rhyme," Chris cajoled me.  
  
"Yeah, but it's different for me and Jeremy," Melissa said. "No, it's not." "Yes, it is. You're, like, innocent and whatnot." I smirked. "You wouldn't guess that from hearing the rumours going around school." Chris whispered confidentially, "Toby's a whore." "Yep," I said proudly, patting him on the head. "Thanks to Chris here." "Actually, that's why I came over here," she admitted. "You don't believe Renee do you?" I demanded. "I wasn't sure," she said. "I really didn't know." "Well thank you," I grumbled. "It's nice to know that I have friends who are willing to believe anything they hear about me." "Toby," she protested, looking hurt. "Forget it," I said. "It doesn't matter because the rumours aren't true. Okay? Hopefully you'll take my word over the super bitch's." Melissa sighed. "Toby, I wouldn't have thought any different of you even if it had been true. I mean, I don't care what you and Chambers do--" "Shut up, Melissa," I said pleasantly. "I'm sorry," she exclaimed. "But I mean, what do you think my reaction would be if everyone was saying my best friend was screwing Chris Chambers." She said his name like it was a sin--Like she had forgotten he was in the room. "Oh no, not Chris Chambers," I gasped, mockingly shocked. "You know Chris isn't exactly well liked, Toby." "Hey, I'm still here," Chris called. Melissa blushed. She knew that she was quickly digging herself a hole. "Chris, I'm sorry." He shrugged. But I wasn't pleased with her. I rounded on her and snapped, "Since you're the same as everyone else, why don't you tell me what is so wrong with him?" She stared at me, her mouth open. "Toby, don't," Chris said. "Don't be mad." I didn't look at him. I felt my face burning and my hands kind of trembling. "What did he do?" Her eyes were rootless, looking everywhere but at me. She murmured, "No one liked him to begin with. He shouldn't have enrolled in the college courses. He can't go around acting like he's like everyone else; like he has a right to be there." "He is as smart as you are." "But he's not--" "He's not as good as you are?" I demanded. "Is that what you're trying to say?" "I know that's he's an okay person and all, but he's just not the same as everyone else!" she stammered, very flustered. "God, Melissa, fuck you," I said tiredly. "I really thought you were different." "I don't want to be different," she said, glaring at me defiantly. "And if you cared about what other people thought of you, you wouldn't want to be different either. Stop trying to change everyone's mind about him, Toby!" "He'll do it himself someday," I promised her. "You can stop looking around for the nearest exit. The door's behind you. Use it."  
  
  
  
"Again!" I squealed delightedly. Gordie growled and Chris laughed. "No," Gordie snapped. "Come on Gordo," Chris encouraged him. "She's your cousin and she loves you." "But her hands are sweaty." "They are not!" I barked. "YOUR hands are sweaty, that's why you feel sweat." "One more time, and then you stop complaining," he said firmly, then tightened his hand around mine. Chris held my other hand securely as well. I did a little run and then they swung me in the air. I giggled happily, but stumbled when I landed because Gordie let go of my hand too soon. "ASShole," I grumbled and rested my head on Chris' shoulder for some moral support. It was the day after the incident with Melissa. Chris, Gordie and I were walking through Castle Rock. Chris claimed that his mother's birthday was coming up and he wanted to get her something because he'd forgotten Mother's Day earlier that year. "Hey, you got swung, didn't you?" He shrugged. "Yes, I do believe you did, so don't bitch." "Gordie, I remember when you were fun," Chris laughed. "I was never fun." "Oh, no, you were never very smart, but you were always fun." Gordie moved so he was walking between Chris and I, and then he kicked Chris in the ass. "That's more like the Gordie we all know and love." Chris smiled at him. I loved the looks Chris and Gordie exchanged sometimes. Not in a gay way, of course. But they were best friends, and when their eyes met, you could almost see the things they'd been through together. It kind of made me wish I'd been there. "I don't love Gordie," I offered helpfully. Chris reminded me, "Yes you do, Toby." I sighed and glared at my cousin, who was glaring back at me. Then I asked, "When are we going to be stopping this walking?" "Tired?" Chris glanced at me. "We've been walking for like an hour. Yes, I'm tired." Kicking at a rock, he told me, "We'll stop walking when we find something for my mom's birthday. Something cheap but something that says.I don't know, something like 'I didn't forget your birthday this time but I have no money and it's the thought that counts.'" "What a caring son," Gordie said. Chris smirked. I gave Gordie a piggyback ride for about a block. Then he grew a little heavy for my liking, so Chris offered to take over, but then they both decided it might look slightly.gay. "Oh, fuck this," Chris said suddenly. "I'll find her some flowers or a plant that could pass as flowers." "Get her some pot leaves and see what she does with them," I suggested. 


	15. Growing Up

In the middle of the night, I shot up in bed, scared out of my breath. Something had startled me awake, but I wasn't sure what yet because I was still groggy. I looked around my dark room, searching for what had woke me up.  
  
Something knocked against my window. Swinging my legs from under the covers, I glanced outside and saw Chris. Relief flooded over me as I went to open the window for him.  
  
"Jesus Murphy, you scared the shit out of me," I scolded when the window was open. I didn't wait for him to crawl inside and jump down onto my desk (my room was on the bottom floor); I just rubbed my eyes and dove back under my warm blankets.  
  
He managed to get inside without falling. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely.  
  
The sleep clouding my mind began to clear up and I flicked on the lamp next to my bed. "What happened?" I demanded.  
  
"Nothing," he said dismissively.  
  
"Felt like going for a walk around my room at three in the morning?"  
  
He nodded and I saw a horrible pain in his eyes. I opened my arms to him and he collapsed into them, curling up almost in a fetal position on my bed.  
  
"I'm sorry for waking you up," he murmured, his voice muffled. He had his face buried in the crook of my arm. "At least it's not a school night."  
  
"I don't care, Chris," I said. "It must have been pretty awful if you had to come here. I really don't mind."  
  
"Sometimes he just gets to be too much."  
  
"Your father?"  
  
He said nothing. But I knew that that was whom he was referring to.  
  
I moved to spread the comforter over his legs. "Here, put this over you." His clothes were soaked. "You're wet."  
  
"It was raining."  
  
"Was it?"  
  
"About two hours ago."  
  
"Then why are you still so wet?"  
  
"He wouldn't let me inside."  
  
"Oh." White-hot anger invaded my whole body. I felt so stupidly helpless because I couldn't do a thing for him. "Stay here, okay? I'm going to go borrow some clothes from Gordie for you to change into."  
  
"They'll be too small," he mumbled. He was tired.  
  
"They'll do for tonight." I kissed the top of head and helped him sit up straight so I could get up. "Entertain yourself with whatever you find in here."  
  
Slipping silently through the hallway and up the stairs to Gordie's room, I carefully pushed open his door. I tried to make it to his closet without waking him up, but I stubbed my toe on what looked like either a roll of toilet paper or a baseball--it was too dark to tell--and he groaned wearily, rolling over. He sat up, startled.  
  
"It's just me Gordie," I whispered. "It's okay."  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Stealing your clothes."  
  
"What the hell for?"  
  
"Chris."  
  
"Turn on the light, I'd like to glare at you evilly but my eyes aren't adjusting to the dark."  
  
I fumbled for the switch and turned the light on. I walked to the closet and fished around for some clothes.  
  
"Toby. What the fucking hell?"  
  
"I think Chris' dad threw him out or something. At least that's what I think, he was mumbling."  
  
"He's in the house?"  
  
"He's in my room," I said. "He knocked on my window and I let him in. He's wet from the rain, so can he borrow something dry to wear?"  
  
"Yeah," Gordie said, getting out of bed and walking to his dresser. He pulled out a plain white T-shirt and some cotton athletic shorts. "He's never done this before. He usually just sticks it out. He's never came here for a place to stay the night. It must have been bad. Really bad."  
  
I nodded. "I want him to be okay."  
  
"So do I." He handed me the clothes. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then I'll come see what's going on, okay?"  
  
"Thanks Gordie." I smiled at him and crept back to my room. "Chris, here's some dry clothes for you."  
  
Getting closer to him, I saw that he was asleep. But he was shivering, so I knew he had to get out of the clothes he was in. I didn't want him to get sick. Touching his arm gently, I tried to gently shake him awake. Eventually, his eyelashes fluttered, and he looked up at me, but I don't think he really focused on me.  
  
"Tired," he murmured.  
  
"I know, Chris," I whispered back. "But you're going to get sick if you don't put something dry on."  
  
"I'm good." His words were slurred together. I knew he just wanted to sleep, and I left him alone when his eyes closed again. I waited for Gordie.  
  
Finally, Gordie poked his head in cautiously first and then entered my room. "You let him fall asleep?" he demanded softly and sharply.  
  
"Oh, he's sleepy," I protested, shoving the clothes into his hands. "YOU try to make him get dressed."  
  
"Fine." He gave me an impertinent look and then walked over to Chris. "Hey. Buddy, wake up. Shit, you're cold," he observed as he touched Chris' arm. "You're gonna freeze your balls off if you don't put some clothes on."  
  
I smirked.  
  
"God, the things I do for my friends," Gordie grumbled grumpily. He took Chris by the arm and dragged him into a sitting position.  
  
"Are you going to undress him?" I whispered, shocked.  
  
"Oh, would you like to do it?" he shot back.  
  
"You go ahead," I said kindly. "I'll wait in the hall."  
  
Gordie came out about a minute later. "I couldn't bring myself to do the pants, I'm sorry."  
  
"You pussy," I giggled. "But he's out of that shirt? It was pretty drenched."  
  
"Yes," he replied. "And oh my GOD, Toby, your boyfriend has abs like you would BELIEVE." He grinned at me.  
  
I laughed. "Don't I know it."  
  
"I have a six-pack too you know, in the fridge." He smiled proudly.  
  
Sometimes I really liked my cousin. This was one of those times. I looked at him benevolently and said, "Goodnight Gordie. Thanks for your help."  
  
"Sure," he said. "I didn't do it for you anyway, I did it for Chris. I'd never do anything nice for you, jeez, what do you take me for?"  
  
"I won't answer that without a lawyer present," I said. I closed the door on him.  
  
With his eyes closed and his body curled up tightly, I was amazed at how peaceful Chris finally looked. I wanted to hold him. Even years later, I would remember exactly what he looked like as he slept soundlessly, and I would remember exactly how I felt at that moment. The desire to take care of him and erase every scar and every bruise he had was overwhelming. That was my first real moment of selflessness. I grew up a little, watching him sleep. I never really forgot that.  
  
Pulling the comforter up to his chin, I kissed his cheek and lingered for a long time, breathing his essence in. I turned off the light and left the room. 


	16. Snoopy Chris!

A bleary eyed Chris stumbled into the kitchen the next morning. He smiled at my family and I and stood at the table, unsure if he was allowed to sit.  
  
"Good morning, Chris," my aunt greeted him quietly. "Do you want something to eat?"  
  
"No, I was thinking I should walk home now," he said, looking out of place. "I just wanted to say thank you."  
  
"Sit," I ordered softly and took a sip from my orange juice.  
  
His eyes became gentle as he looked at me. Still watching me, he took a seat. I just smiled and shrugged.  
  
"Chris, I think you gained weight overnight," Gordie observed helpfully.  
  
"Gordie, I think you're an anorexic," Chris shot back, looking down at the skin-tight shirt of Gordie's that he was wearing.  
  
With his mouth full, Vincent said, "Gordie's just petite, that's all."  
  
After he had some food in his stomach, Chris peered up nervously at Aunt Francis. He cleared his throat and asked, "Can I phone my mom? I want to let her know I'm okay."  
  
She nodded emotionlessly and gestured towards the telephone. "Go ahead."  
  
Rising to his feet, he crossed the kitchen and picked up the receiver from its cradle, dialling his number with what seemed to me like great care. "Hi, Mama, it's Chris," he said quietly, glancing at us like he wished we'd all go away. "I'm at Gordie Lachance's."  
  
A stab of jealousy hit me for a moment, even though I knew that his mother knew Gordie Lachance and not Toby Tweten, and she would know that Chris was safe if he said he was with Gordie Lachance, but not Toby Tweten. I couldn't help the emotion despite the fact that I was well aware of its irrelevance.  
  
"Yeah, I'm okay," Chris said. "Are you?" He paused, listening and nodding. "Yeah, I had something to eat."  
  
"SOMEthing," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Chris Chambers could eat. He had a tendency to eat like there was no tomorrow. He ate liked a vacuum.  
  
Chris shot me a playful look, and then said into the phone, "When do you want me home?" He listened. "But how do you know when Dad won't be home anymore? Okay. All right. Mom, I know he's mad at me, okay? All right. Just telephone the Lachance's when he leaves." He hung up the phone and announced to no one in particular, "My mother said that it wouldn't be very smart to go home as long as my dad's there, so I have to wait."  
  
Gordie grinned. "We can be roomies, Chris!"  
  
The way Chris clapped his hands mockingly for Gordie made me laugh. But the truth was, the haunted, hollowed look on his face worried me immensely.  
  
"Gordon," Uncle John said gruffly, coming into the kitchen. "I want you to take out these garbage right now."  
  
I also didn't like the way Chris recoiled when he saw my uncle. I guess Chris knew how much Uncle John despised him.  
  
I raised my eyebrows and grabbed Chris' hand, pulling him away from the kitchen area. "Quick! Before we have to do work!"  
  
We took refuge from chores in my room. "Hey," I said, surveying the room with my eyes. "You made the bed. Good job. Now my aunt won't be all over my ass do it."  
  
He laughed. "I had no idea as to where the fuck I was this morning when I woke up. But the pillow smelled like you, so I'm thinking, Toby should be here, but you weren't so then I thought, where the fuck is Toby? Where did you go last night? I don't remember very much. I was a mess."  
  
"Don't you remember?" I demanded, shocked. "You were chased by a large squirrel into my room, and when you fell back asleep in the comfort of my loving arms, the large squirrel came back, and I saved myself and left you for the squirrel to eat."  
  
Chris just grinned. "Golly, you're the best girlfriend ever, and I say that with the utmost sarcasm."  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm cute anyway," I said apathetically. I flopped down on my bed and then giggled as he dove on to it next to me. "I thought it was very cute the way you said mama."  
  
"Oh, shut up," he laughed. "Where did you end up sleeping?"  
  
"None of your business," I teased. I had slept on the couch. I had felt wrong about crawling into bed with him when he was the way he was, but I didn't plan on telling him that. I didn't want him to think I was a prude or frigid or something.  
  
"Did you decide on something for your mom's birthday?" I asked conversationally.  
  
"Actually!" Chris grinned wildly and pulled open my bedside table drawer, then retrieved a small book with scribbles all over it. "I found something in here I want."  
  
"You fucking retard," I cried.  
  
My outburst brought great amusement to him. "Thanks for noticing."  
  
"That's mine!" I squealed and reached for it. "Gimme!"  
  
He just laughed. "No, I want something from it!"  
  
"Those are my private thoughts, you asshole!" His arms were quite a bit larger than mine were and he managed to keep it out of my grasp. I gave up and settled on just glaring at him crossly.  
  
"There's a poem in here," he murmured, flipping through the dog-eared pages, and then found what he was looking for. "Did you write this?"  
  
I glanced at the page and immediately recognized the words written by my haphazard penmanship. That poem he was showing me was the one poem I didn't want him to see. "Why?" I grumbled, mad that he had read it. "You know, I never gave you permission to look through my journal."  
  
"You told me to entertain myself with whatever I found in here last night," he reminded me stubbornly. "I like this. Did you write it?"  
  
"Maybe. Why?"  
  
"Who is it about?"  
  
"Santa, you shit hole."  
  
He laughed. "It's really good, Toby."  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
"Can I give it to my mom for her birthday?"  
  
"It's about you, dumbass." I blushed.  
  
He ran his hands through my hair and kissed the top of my head, bringing my body closer to his so I could rest against him. "I know. But look at it, it could be about anyone. It could be about your mom or your grandfather or your brother or your sister or your mailman or anyone."  
  
"The mailman?" I asked.  
  
"I guess it would depend on how close you are to your mailman."  
  
I smirked. "Yeah, whatever. You can keep it. Just tear it out."  
  
"Here, just put your name at the bottom so she knows who it's by," he said.  
  
"Uh-uh," I protested. "I'm not taking any credit for that piece of shit if she hates it."  
  
He kissed my cheek and I felt him smile. "You fuckass."  
  
His vocabulary made me laugh despite the fact that I was still embarrassed. "You have such a way with women, Chris. I just melt when you whisper sweet words like that in my ear." 


	17. The Poem

There's courage in your eyes  
  
Nights of pain and a lifetime of discriminations are etched on your tragically beautiful face  
  
But your smile is pure and untainted  
  
I look at you and see myself  
  
The way I've always wanted to be  
  
Then you look at me  
  
And the whirlwind of love and admiration suffocates me  
  
But you breathe life into me  
  
You amaze me  
  
You are refuge  
  
My safe haven  
  
You are strength  
  
I need you  
  
No one understands you  
  
You can't be understood  
  
Everyone is too blind to see you  
  
You're hidden behind the forbidding shadows of what you can't control  
  
But I know that you'll be something amazing  
  
You will leave this small world behind  
  
This world is cruel and ignorant  
  
And it could never handle something as beautiful as you 


	18. End of Part One

With his hand clasped around mine, Chris whispered playfully, "Come on! Were you a snail in another life or something?"  
  
Tripping for the umpteenth time, I swore and hissed at him, "Kiss my ass, I keep tripping." I dropped the blanket I was carrying. "DAMMIT!"  
  
"Holy don't psycho, child," he laughed. He picked it up for me and we started running through the nearly pitch black brush again.  
  
Leaves slapped me in the face and I twisted my ankle. I squealed unhappily.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked, amused. "Think you'll make it?"  
  
"Why are we in such a rush?" I demanded crossly.  
  
"Because we need to hurry or the spot will get taken! It's the best spot. Don't question me, dumbass." He ran into a branch and swore loudly. I laughed.  
  
After he recovered, I said, "We're not going to get to hear the movie. Why does it matter whether we get a good view or not?"  
  
"It just does." He winced. "I'll be feeling that branch for awhile.Ow."  
  
"Gosh, do you hear my heart breaking?"  
  
"Bite me, Toby."  
  
Finally, we reach the Drive In. It was crowded because it was a Saturday night. Chris through the blanket down when he decided it was a good place to watch the movie from, and both of us sat on the blanket.  
  
"I can't even see the movie," I bitched.  
  
"So? We're alone."  
  
A grin spread across my face slowly. "You hornball."  
  
"I notice for once you're not complaining."  
  
I continued to smile. "Well. It IS a little cold."  
  
"You're so pathetic." In another moment, he draped his well worn leather jacket over my shoulders and slipped his arms around me. I settled back into his familiar warmth and he rested his chin on my head. "Happy?" he asked.  
  
I murmured, "You know I am."  
  
Neither of us spoke for a long time. Then we both gave a little sigh of contentment at the same time. We laughed lightly.  
  
"Guess what," he said quietly and suddenly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
He said it so simply that I immediately blushed. I blinked several times. I knew that that was the way we felt about each other even though we'd never said the actual words. But it still came as an ice water shock.  
  
I turned so that I was facing him. "How?" My voice came out harsher than I'd intended.  
  
"Because if I don't love you then I don't love anything," he replied strongly. "I've never felt this way about anything in my life. I love you even if you don't love me back."  
  
"Of course I love you," I told him. "Who else do you think I could love?" I smiled.  
  
"Toby?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I get hurt a lot."  
  
"I know you do," I said, touching his face. "And you don't have to worry about me, so don't even ask it."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"I'm not going to hurt you," I promised. "I'm not going to stop loving you." I looked up at the sky for a moment. "Even if you do."  
  
"Toby, I'm sixteen," he said. "It took me sixteen years to actually start to feel anything besides sad and cheated and hated. I'm not about to give you up because you're the one that did it for me. I think you saved me. Just don't leave, okay?"  
  
"I'm not going anywhere unless you're coming along for the ride," I giggled.  
  
"Good. I'm glad we have that settled." He moved my head to the side so that he could see the movie better. Then he fidgeted for a second. "Ow, get off of my lap, you're cramping up my leg." 


	19. Part Two

Chris never made top honours in high school. He graduated nineteenth in our class.which was eight places higher than me.  
  
The harassment didn't stop for him. For the most part, everyone accepted the fact that and I were together and nothing they made up to humiliate us would be enough to change that. But Chris just wasn't good enough for anyone--not his parents, or his teachers, or our peers.  
  
But he made it. I watched him at our graduation, and the "kiss my ass" look that he had on his face the entire time was priceless. Chris got accepted to the University of Maine and went to the Portland Campus. Pre- law. I followed. I really had no hopes or aspirations in my life because Chris basically consumed my everything. I acquired a job as a waitress at Passmores' Pizza, and it kept me occupied while Chris was at school. It paid okay, along with Chris' evening job at a record store. We scraped by together just fine. On our own, as usual. We'd always been that way. But you know, it was when we were alone that we could see ourselves as beautiful. There was no one else around to disagree. 


	20. A Question

"Hey," Chris greeted me, walking into the kitchen, where I stood at the sink, washing dishes. He hugged me from behind and kissed my cheek. "How's my favorite girlfriend?"  
  
"Pruney," I replied, holding up my hands. They looked like raisins from being soaked in the sudsy water. "You?"  
  
He picked up a plate and started drying it. "I'm tired."  
  
"You look it."  
  
"Thanks, I appreciate it." He nodded. "Hey, I have two questions."  
  
"Fire."  
  
"Do you love me?"  
  
"Yep. Fire number two."  
  
"Okay, wanna spend the rest of our lives together?"  
  
"You don't have a choice," I said, looking at him strangely. "What are you getting at? Are you asking me to marry you?"  
  
"I'm asking you to marry me."  
  
"Are you sure?" I asked, a little dumbfounded.  
  
"Toby, you're the only thing I'd ever been sure about, remember?"  
  
I still wasn't sure if I believed what was happening. "You got a ring?"  
  
"I do." He searched through his pockets.  
  
When he began to look a little perturbed, I giggled, "Did you lose the ring?"  
  
"Momentarily." His eyes lit up, relieved, and then he showed me the ring. "Okay, do I have to kneel down or do you just want to say yes?"  
  
"Holy shit," I murmured, looking at the diamond. "I can see myself in this thing! How did you pay for it?"  
  
"Stop avoiding the answering of my question!"  
  
"Of course, yes, dumbass," I said. "Who else do you think I'd marry?"  
  
"That's what I was hoping for." He grinned.  
  
Finally, it all sunk in. I jumped into his arms, catching him off guard and accidentally pinned him against a wall. "I get to live with my best friend forever and ever!" I cried delightedly.  
  
Laughter bubbled out of him infectiously. "Sleepovers every night!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~  
  
I cracked my knuckles anxiously as I listened to the phone ring and waited for someone on the other line to pick up.  
  
Finally someone did answer, but all I heard was giggling. "Yeah?" a female voice laughed and then squealed as if she were being tickled.  
  
"Yeah, is Gordie there?" I asked impatiently.  
  
"He's busy--" she began but then demanded, "He wants to know who's calling."  
  
"It's his cousin. I'll be unhappy if he doesn't put some pants on and talk to me." I waited while she handed the phone to him.  
  
"Toby?"  
  
"Gordie, your one night stands just keep getting ditzier and ditzier, sorry to say," I informed him kindly.  
  
"Sarah's not like that," he said, and I heard his defensiveness clearly over the line. "I'm serious about her. We're.She said yes. I asked her to marry me."  
  
"Fuck you!" I cried.  
  
I heard a guttural stutter on Gordie's end of the line. "Um, 'hey congratulations, Gordie--' Gee, thanks Toby."  
  
"I'm sorry," I said sincerely. "But.You asshole, couldn't you get engaged later?"  
  
He laughed. "No. Now what do you want?"  
  
"I'm getting married!" I cried exasperatedly.  
  
"To who?" he demanded.  
  
"Who the hell do you think?"  
  
"Chris?"  
  
"Nah, the Pope popped the question," I growled sarcastically. "Good Lord, Gordie."  
  
"Congratulations," he told me and I knew he was smiling.  
  
"You too," I returned and couldn't fight the smile on my own face. "Do you wanna talk to Chris?"  
  
"Sure," he said. "Bye, Tobe. And hey."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You two are going to be happy for the rest of your lives." 


	21. Last Happiness

Chris and Toby were engaged March 31, 1969, married on Valentine's Day of '70, both of them aged 22, and Toby was expecting their first baby by November of the same year. They moved into a quaint house in a good neighbourhood. It had a rose garden. Their lives were moving fast but it never seemed like a big deal. It was always just two best friends being best friends together. Nothing ever seemed to touch that. Not bills; not grocery lists; not morning sickness; not Chris' courtroom dramas. It was just Chris and Toby. Nothing had changed since the ninth grade. They still teased each other, loved each other, held each others' hands.They were just a little older and they had a mortgage now. 


	22. He Died Almost Instantly

Christopher Chambers walked into a fast food restaurant at the end of 1985, picking up a quick dinner after work for his family. Ahead of him, two men got into an argument. One of them pulled a knife. Wanting to make the best of peace, Chris stepped in between them and was stabbed in the throat. He died almost instantly.  
  
  
  
"Toby?" Gordie chucked a carrot stick at his cousin, hitting her in the side of the face. "In order to feed the baby, you need to actually feed the baby."  
  
Snapping herself out of her thoughts, Toby glanced up, startled, as if noticing her surroundings for the first time. "Sorry. Will you feed him for me? I'm going to take a nap."  
  
Gordie worried about her. He had grown up with her and had only seen her cry twice; at that school dance and at her wedding. But now if she wasn't crying, she was being a recluse. She did not eat. She could not look after her kids. Toby was wasting away. That was why Gordie was staying with her. It was a month later and she was worsening quickly. But he just watched her get up and go to the bedroom she used to share with his best friend and close the door behind her. He didn't follow. He just got up and fed the youngest Chambers, a two-year-old boy named Jake who had known his daddy for only the first twenty-three months of his life.  
  
Toby didn't come out of her room. At eight, Gordie put Jake in his crib. And then at ten, he rounded up six-year-old Claire and eight-year-old Luke to make them brush their teeth, say their prayers and get into bed.  
  
Graham, twelve, and Kate, the oldest at fourteen, drank hot chocolate with Gordie at the kitchen table, chatting lightly about school, friends-- anything but their father. They left after awhile to watch late night TV together in the den.  
  
Gordie knew he had to check on her. Maybe she was just sleeping, but he wanted to make sure. He pushed open her door and peered inside.  
  
Toby was crying soundlessly, her arm over Chris' pillow. She didn't look at Gordie when he sat down on her bed beside her legs.  
  
"Toby," he said helplessly.  
  
The look in her eyes sunk his stomach. He'd never seen more loneliness in all his life.  
  
"Gordie, I." She sniffled. She did not move. "I'm sorry, Gordie. You shouldn't have to be babysitting them, I just can't--" A small, miserable whimper escaped her heart. "I can't even look at my own kids. They look too much like him."  
  
Gordie just stared at her small, waif-like form. His spitfire of a cousin was a different person now. He knew that a part of her had been buried with Chris. But it seemed like she was all gone. This was not Toby. Toby was sweet and foul mouthed and funny and obnoxious. Now she was just lying there.  
  
"You're killing yourself," he murmured.  
  
"I'm already dead." Her voice was flat and hollow. It was sharp and precise and it was true.  
  
Holding her hand, Gordie said, "You have five kids that need you to stop being dead, Toby. They miss him as much as you do. You all can get through this together."  
  
"I love them," she whispered. "You'll take care of them, won't you? Promise."  
  
"They already have you. You're their mom."  
  
She stared at their hands, which were still holding each other. "I miss the feeling of his hand holding mine so much.I miss the way his eyes.just sparkled." She was quiet for a moment. "He loved you, you know."  
  
"He loved you too, Toby."  
  
"He's gone," she murmured, lonely and broken. "He's just gone. I never knew I would ever have to feel like this.I miss him so much."  
  
"So do I," Gordie said, struggling to stop the tears from coming. "And I miss you too."  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ **~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 


	23. Broken Heart

In her last four months alive, the smell of roses filled Toby's room so strongly that she had to crack the window open. Her angel was near by. And she would be with him soon.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*THE END*~ 


End file.
